The Girl of the Rivers
by 1607hannah
Summary: Melusida knows little of her family's history, what she does know is the legend surrounding her mother's ancestor Melusine; a water Goddess who fell in love with a mortal man, the man who would crown and be Steward to King Isildur. Melusida's fate is intertwined with the lost King of Gondor and Boromir. But will her family's lies and secrets destroy her and the destiny of the King?
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys, here I am with this bizarre story that just seemed to spill out of my head and has now been begging to be posted up. I've taken a lot of inspiration from different stories and songs (which I like to do, because Gaelic/folk songs sound amazing and since writing my great-grandmothers memoirs, I've been doing lots of research around this). So to start off with, I own neither Lord of the Rings, any of Philippa Gregory's work (she inspires a lot of my own writing, love her books) or Heather Dale's music (youtube it). There are a few characters that I have invented (Melusida, Hamnet and Dòmhnall to name a small few!). Please read and review, because this just might be one of my rare stories where I don't make it M-rated :O!

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Chapter One  
The Lady of the Lilies

Melusida is my name. I was named after a goddess, a water goddess they said, Melusine. To the water I would return. It always fascinated me, even as a young child. I loved putting my head down among the cool depths, hearing the cool rush against my ears, the shouts of my brothers far away and how the bubbles made small gurgling sounds. My father would always angrily pull me out of the water, by my hair and scold me for scaring him. He was a tall, broad shouldered man, who could prevent you from doing something just with his eyes. My mother would stand watching on the bank, tall and fair like a lily, while I cried salty tears into the river water and my underskirt drifted around my legs like water weeds. She understood, she knew the gifts I had from the very beginning, but she would never say anything. My brothers and father ignored this entirely, but I knew with her careful, guarded grey eyes that she was dying. A lily is not one to be battered and childbirth proved exhausting for her. My brothers and I were all strong, lively children and my father was a man who knew every detail about the household, so he was not to be denied. I watched her fade away, the assured passing of time when her leaves and petals grew pale and simply fell. But I still found a mother's comfort and love within her arms, she would tell me how she knew of my gifts and the gifts our Mother-Goddess had. The gift of foresight, of magick. She taught me to read her cards, told me to keep them close and to only use them when I had need.

"Will you read the cards for me today?" she asked, pale as smoke, lying on her bed. I nodded and pulled up a stool by her bed. I took the cards from the small chest nearby and shuffled them, they warmed in my hands. I asked my mother and my Mother-Goddess for their blessing, my mother placed her hand on my dark brown head and softly murmured her blessing for me. I shuffled the cards once more and found the place in the pack where a strange sensation filled my fingers and I knew it was right to reveal the card. I placed it face down on the bed and my mother picked it up. I was surprised when she did this; she normally waited for any other cards I placed. But she gave a soft sigh and smiled,  
"Hello, old friend." she put it down on the bed. Death's eyes seemed to pierce me from under his helmet, his long cloak swishing around his skeleton shoulders. In one hand he held a scythe, in the other his red banner with a white rose upon it. I looked up, my expression one of horror. My mother cupped her hand under my chin.  
"Now, now love. These things happen. As with Life there is Death, as with Death there is Life. Remember in life there are only two things we can be certain of, one of them being Death, the other being hope."  
"But how can there be any hope in this?" I near wailed.  
"Hush. I have no need for it, but I have seen you grow and my hope for your future is bright."  
"Has Melusine come to you?" I asked.  
My mother gave me a mysterious smile, "In a way She has; promise me that you will remain fair and wise, that you will not forget what I have taught you and that you will not give up on horse riding, archery and swordplay."  
I nodded, not understanding, but just accepting my mother's requests.  
"And now, will you sing to me the song of our history?" she asked.  
I wiped away the tears forming in my eyes and cleared my throat.

_He was young,  
and he rode along the river,  
raven haired.  
The fairest thing to grace those steady banks,  
In ages come and lost forever._

And power laid upon him,  
Like a thousand secrets she would never know,  
and so she spoke.

In the lapping of the land;  
golden tongued,  
her whispers fickle jewels among the sands,  
ephemeral and softly spoken.

But he was wiser than years,  
and shed his hooves to meet her there,  
among the reeds,  
where earth recedes…

I hadn't finished the song, but looked up at my mother. Her eyes were already closed, sleep upon her. Death would arrive soon. I got up carefully, put back the cards and kissed her forehead. Whispered to her that I loved her and left the room. That night I didn't touch my food, father told me off for wasting good meat, but our maid Siliuth said she could easily use it tomorrow and I went to bed early. I lay awake for what felt like hours, waiting for the time, waiting and waiting. But as the night grew on, still my mother lived. I wept, feeling her own pain and laboured breaths in my chest. Slowly sleep overtook all my senses and I fell away into the darkness.

I knew before my father came into the dining hall, before his grim expression and the maids' worried faces. I had heard the sweet, sad song of the river, of my mother and Mother-Goddess, Melusine singing for the death of her child in the night, just before the creeping light of dawn. My father needed to say no words, he only had to confirm my fears and I ran down to the river. I screamed with anger and pain, screamed at Death and Melusine for taking my mother, screamed at my mother for leaving me. Then I heard her soft whispers tumbling over the stones and pushing past reeds, her voice calling to me. I stayed silent then, hearing her voice, not words, but just her voice. Till my father roughly gripped my shoulder and pulled me back up to the house. I expected his angry words, but he said nothing, just touched my head. I stood up on tiptoe and kissed his rough, warm cheek feeling his tears there. I was ten years old, but he picked me up in his arms and carried me back through the doorway. He sat me in front of my egg, next to my older brother Hamnet and opposite my younger Dòmhnall. Hamnet squeezed my hand under the table, his face pale with shock. Dòmhnall hid his tears as best he could, until he excused himself and ran to his room.

The maids took to comforting my eight year old brother. Hamnet and I went on a walk when father left the dining hall. Down pass the river, through the dark green, coolness of the forest. We didn't say anything to each other, just held one another's hand, which Hamnet had not done for a while, fourteen year old pride stopping him. We walked further than we normally did and came across a party of Elves, we stood back respectfully as they passed, most of them nodded their heads politely but Lord Elrond approached us. My mother knew him a little and I believed she had liked him, though he often scorned the story of our history and the gifts we had. He did not believe they were true, otherwise he would have known of them.  
"We heard tell of the death of your mother, my regrets to you all." I couldn't look up at him; I knew those grey-blue eyes, so uncannily like my mother's they would make me weep. I was relieved when Hamnet answered for us both,  
"We thank you sir, the departing of our mother has wounded us all." Hamnet kept his voice measured and sure, but I could sense a gentle waver within his tone and I gripped on tighter to his hand.  
"Will you need help finding your way back?" a female Elven voice asked and this time I did look up. It was the Lady Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond, she smiled sadly at us both and her eyes were very kind.  
"Nay, thank you, my lady. We know the woods well."  
Lord Elrond smiled and clasped my brother's shoulder gently. "Hamnet and Melusida have Elven blood in their veins, though whether a goddess exists in them is another matter, they know these woods almost better than any ranger."  
"We should go back now." I said to Hamnet, who nodded. We both bowed to Elves and then made our way back through the forest; I turned my head to see Lord Elrond watching us. He gave me a short bow and as the Elves left, I hurried beside my brother.  
"What did Lord Elrond mean?"  
"Mean?"  
"When he said we had Elven blood in our veins, father never mentioned this."  
"Lord Elrond knew mother had some in her's, but I forget how he knew, we don't have pointy ears."  
I frowned, "Then is the goddess story true or not?"  
Hamnet gave a tight laugh, "It hardly matters if it is or it isn't, now hurry up."

We got back, as soon as we entered the dining hall I saw all of mother's possessions littered across the table. The books she had, her reading cards, her clothes, her jewellery. It hurt, seeing all those things without the person that made them real. Father stood at the end of the hall, with an unknown man, quietly talking. He looked over at me and my brother, but paid us no heed. I buried my face in the sweet smelling clothes, longing for her gentle hands to give me a blessing once more. Siliuth touched my shoulder and pulled me away; while the unknown man walked pass the table, reeling off a list of my mother's possessions, the majority of them were to be given to my brother's and I. Hamnet received most of her books, except one on herblore and ancient magick, which I received and one on fairytales and legends gifted to Dòmhnall. I received her reading cards to and was to get most of her gowns and the few pieces of jewellery she had owned, but I found myself repulsed at the idea of wearing the clothes she had worn. Siliuth placed my mother's dark green cloak around my shoulders and it was like my mother had stood behind me and embraced me, I breathed in the scent of the woodland paths and the sweetness of the river.

Later, in the evening they brought out a small, white boat. She was to be buried in our ways, set down the river in the smoothly carved, pale boat. Her fair hair spread out over the pillow, littered with lily flowers. She wore her finest light grey gown and a dark blue, velvet blanket was spread over her lap reaching down to her feet, she was surrounded by the long stemmed lilies. Hamnet, Dòmhnall and I kissed her cold forehead; afterwards my father knelt beside her and gave a long, loving kiss on her lips. I buried my arms in the folds of the cloak, it pooled around my feet, far too long for me.

When my father turned back to us, he looked over our heads and his eyes widened with fear and anger. I turned. The Elves were there again, paying their respects, many of them still mounted on their horses. I saw my father almost grow angry, he begun to walk towards them, but Lord Elrond held up his hand and I grabbed my father's sleeve. Father looked down at me and then turned his back on them. I gazed over at them, hoping they would read my expression of apology. Lord Elrond gave a short, sad smile and bowed his head.

"She cannot sing it, she is only ten." argued Siliuth.  
"It is hardly fitting." said another maid. My father frowned, while several of his men stood patiently holding the boat in the river, waiting for his order. My father had sung his lament, but as daughter I was expected to sing my own for my mother.  
"Why not ask me?" I said, "I want to sing it for her, even though my voice is not strong." My father gazed down at me, then nodded his head.

Baile Is é taobh thiar de,  
An domhan atá romhainn,  
Agus tá go leor bealaí a tread.

Trí scáth,  
Chun an imeall oíche,  
Go dtí go mbeidh na réaltaí go léir trí thine.

Mist agus scáth,  
Scamall agus scáth,  
Déanfar gach céimnithe,  
An t-  
Céimnigh ...

My voice shook as they pushed the boat out into the river and I dug my nails tightly into my hand, to ensure I didn't cry while I sang. But when I had finished the song and the women's wails made the air cold with their cries, I found tears pouring down my face. Siliuth tried to pull me to her, but I found the weight oppressive and I pulled away, desperately gasping at air that did not seem to reach my lungs. I ran along the river watching the boat sail away, until an archer released his arrow alit with fire and it hit the boat, the flames engulfing her figure. The Lady Arwen came over to me. She said nothing, simply stood by my side. I looked up to her when the boat had passed from view.  
"Why did your father believe my mother to be Elven?" I asked.  
"Because the gifts she possessed where not of this world and they frightened him."  
"Frightened him?" I could scarcely believe anyone would be scared of my mother.  
"Very few have such clear Sight and knowledge of things to come." I gazed over to Lord Elrond who was watching mine and Arwen's exchange, I could not really tell with the wise Elf, but perhaps there was a glimmer of fear in his eyes.  
"Does he fear me?"  
Arwen placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, "Perhaps, but it is hard to tell, your gifts have not established themselves yet. But perhaps with the passing of your mother they will."  
I shivered, "She knew she was to die."  
Arwen nodded and then turned back to the rest of the Elves and alighted on her horse once more.  
"Friend, if you wish for some moments of rest and peace you are welcome to Imladris." called Lord Elrond to my father.  
"I have no need of your help, friend." my father sneered. I expected Hamnet to speak up at that point, but he did not and as Lord Elrond bowed his head with acceptance I turned around.  
"We thank you kindly for attending my mother's funeral and your offer of sanctuary." I said, Lord Elrond smiled evenly at me and then bought his horse around before continuing his journey.

"What were you thinking? Shaming me like that." shouted my father.  
"I am sorry, father, but the Elves do not mean us harm and I just thought…"  
"Well you'd do well enough not to think and not to make judgements upon me. How dare you speak out." My father grabbed my arms and pushed me against the wooden walls, till tears shone in my eyes.  
"I'm sorry, father."  
"I will not be disgraced like that, not when your mother…" he stopped himself and let me go, "Go to your room, if the dinner did not suit you yesterday, you can have none tonight."  
I ran up the stairs, into my room and dived straight on my bed. I pulled the covers around me, till I was wrapped up in a small nest of blankets and sheets. I must have fallen asleep, because Siliuth woke me up with a plate of food and a small cup of ale.  
"Do not tell your father," she whispered and gave me a small kiss on my forehead. I ate hungrily and then she took away the plate, but left the cup. I drifted back to sleep, only waking when Hamnet and Dòmhnall slipped into my bed during the night and we all slept, curled up like fox cubs.

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Anyone recognise the Gaelic song? Brownie points for those that do!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

In the passing of time father did not attempt to speak with the Elves, he grew evermore quiet. They no longer caused him to angrily mutter oaths, but he did not attempt to grow friendly with them. My brothers and I, on the other hand, found their company welcoming and kind. In a way, they almost adopted us, my brothers were particularly fond of Arwen's older twin brothers Elladan and Elrohir, who taught them the necessary skills father should have spent his time teaching them. They in turn taught me sword play and Elrohir took especial delight in teaching me archery. But I found the company of Arwen and her father reassuring, and would sometimes sit with them both learning of the history and legends of the Elves. Lord Elrond sometimes spoke to me of herblore and lent me books, but unlike Arwen he was always a little wary of me. I did not take this as a personal slight though, believing that he was both fearful of my ancestry, as Arwen had said, and that he was also concerned with greater matters than that of my education.

In fairness, our education was excellent, my brothers and I soon picked up Sindarin and our knowledge of history expanded rapidly when we spent time with the Elves. My father had never spoken of things beyond our home, so I was almost shocked to learn of other people existing beyond ourselves, those who lived in Gondor and Rohan. I found learning of distant Kings and unknown Queens dull, but I longed to know what people did in those strange places. Rohirrims loved horses and were some of the finest riders in the land and Gondorians were noble and fine people, but how I wished I could see those lands for myself.

Once or twice the Rangers of the North would visit Rivendell, so my brothers and I were thrilled, but they did not pay attention to young children, though they gave Hamnet some heed. One man, named Thorongil, was particularly kind to my brother and he even spoke to Dòmhnall and I on some occasions. But when we appeared he seemed to know Arwen would not be far behind us and his eyes would seek her out. I wondered what it was to have a love like that. Was it nice to have a man look for you so? To give a rare smile when you appeared. I was surprised he was allowed to speak with the Lady Arwen and even walk with her, accompanied only by her maid-in-waiting. But Lord Elrond seemed to respect and even admire Thorongil, and I wondered what he had done to warrant such affection from his lordship. I tried to speak with the servants about it, but they encouraged me not to ask questions and to seek some other entertainment.

As we got to know them better on each visit, Hamnet and even Dòmhnall managed to fit comfortably in with those men, but if I showed any interest in weaponry or talks of battles they would slowly cease to talk and give me strange looks. Thorongil didn't mind and found my interest amusing, believing I was simply interested because I liked myths and legends.  
Once, when one of the Rangers began to ask me how my garden did and Thorongil saw my look of irritation, he said,  
"Do not look at the young lady with such fear Halbarad, stories of battles interest the young, no matter whether they are male or female."  
Halbarad gave an uneasy smile and then leaned over to Thorongil, quickly murmuring something in rapid Sindarin. Thorongil looked puzzled for a moment and then smiled at me reassuringly.  
"What is it?" I asked suspiciously, at this time my Sindarin was very basic and I could not understand anything when they spoke so hastily.  
"Halbarad simply fears that talk of battles will ruin such a pretty mind and face." Thorongil gave his most charming of smiles, but I scowled, sensing the lie and the false flattery. Thorongil bit his lip, looking apologetically at me,  
"Some men have a strange way of not wishing to tell these things to women, partly because most women will never truly understand and partly because we have a desire to keep the minds of women and children innocent."

This argument seemed more reasonable, but I still sensed he was not being entirely truthful with me. I sighed and got up, done with the infuriating way men treated me like some delicate flower, fifteen was a very irritating age to be. I headed off into the woods, slinging my bow onto my back and following the path down pass the river and up towards my home. I near froze in my tracks when I heard a whistle. It was a human pretending to be a bird, elves tended to be better at mimicking birdsong. I notched an arrow into my bow and drew it back, pointing it roughly in the direction of the whistle.  
"Who is there? Show yourself." I goaded my voice into a commanding and calm tone, drawing my arm back further as someone slipped from the trees in a rush of dark brown clothing and fell into the bushes beneath.  
"I am Melusida, daughter of…"  
"I know who you're daughter of." A voice I knew very well quipped back. I breathed a sigh of relief and put the arrow back into my quiver as Hamnet's friend, Cobryn, staggered out of the bushes. I scowled at him. Cobryn was our cook's son and I knew him to be a dolt, one because he believed most women loved him, two because he was only eighteen and three because he never did anything useful...well according to father.  
"I could have shot you."  
"Well you didn't." he grinned, rather smugly and I put an arrow back into my bow.  
"Doesn't mean I still don't want to."  
"Oh-ho, well I am certainly scared now!"  
I glared at him and put the arrow away again and marched up the path.  
"Hey! Melusida, wait a minute."

I kept walking, Cobryn ran to catch up with me, he soon got to my side and walked with me.  
"I'm not seeking anyone's company, and besides, my brother is still at Rivendell. You can join him, if you want, I don't need a guide."  
Cobryn shrugged and I sighed.  
"I like your company, just as much as your brother's." he said.  
"Well I don't like yours and I don't seek it."  
"Why are you being so snappy with me?" he asked.  
"Because you are a useless sod, that's why."  
"You sound like your father."  
"Well that's what my father says about you."  
"Oh…and you believe him?" Cobryn turned to look at me, his dark, blue eyes turned cold.  
"I…well, what were you doing in that tree then?"  
Cobryn pulled a sack from his back and pulled out some rabbits and a partridge, then a smaller bow.  
"Getting you your supper, I was having my own in that tree."  
He shoved them back in his sack and walked on ahead, I ran up to him.  
"Why didn't you say so?" I said.  
"I guess I assumed you wouldn't believe everything your father said about me."  
"Sorry, he just said…"  
"I don't see you and your brothers doing as much as I, apart from enjoying the comforts of Rivendell."  
"I train hard." I snapped.  
"Oh, excellent. So when my mother decides she's no longer going to work for nothing, you'll be able to catch your own supper."  
"What…?" my mouth felt dry, I stopped walking. Cobryn turned back to me, his eyes softer with pity.  
"Don't fear, your father's kept most in the dark, including you and I. I only found out recently and my mother was none too pleased."  
"He must pay her for her services."  
Cobryn shook his head, "Your family have nothing left. You have not a penny to your name, despite your father's title. Most of the servants are here on personal favour for your father and your late mother, not money. My mother has not been paid these past five years."  
"You lie…" I said, unsurely.  
"Nay," he continued walking, "Your father has no money, none of us do. You have nothing for your dowry. You will be lucky if you marry a farmer or a merchant." I hit him sharply on his shoulder, causing him to shout an oath.  
"You lie!" I shouted. I ran hard up the path, not stopping, he was not going to catch up with me.  
"Why would I lie? What use have I in lying?"  
"I don't know, but you are here to cause trouble and injure my family's name." I screamed back.  
"Well then perhaps I will do something useful, rather than being a _useless sod_. Perhaps I'll join the Rangers; at least I would get paid, rather than getting no thanks, even though I put good food on your plate!"  
"Do as you will Cobryn, I care not."

I ran all the way home after that, not looking back to him, trying not to let childish tears cloud my eyes. Stupid girl! He was a useless, lazy dolt like my father said. But why had Cobryn said…? Did we really have no money, no wealth of any kind? I had not considered anything about my life, just simply accepted these things. But was this the reason why I had been forbidden from burning my mother's clothes and despite the title of Lady, my mother had only a few pieces of precious jewellery? Life was not overly comfortable, but neither was it a hardship. I slowed my run as I approached the borders of my father's land and sat down on a tree trunk. I did not understand. Why did it matter whether we had money or no? The servants received their bed and board; there was food enough and help readily available from the Elves. 'Because money is freedom. So my father and the servants are trapped here.' I reasoned. I vaguely wished I had asked Cobryn more, but I still felt my anger pulse in my veins. Perhaps I could ask my father about this? But I knew as the question crossed my mind, I could not. Why I could not I did not know, his pride certainly, but there was something else…There were only two people I trusted enough to tell me the truth and not tell my father of my question, Lord Elrond and Lady Arwen. I determined to go back to Rivendell tomorrow. I realised it would look odd if I had left one minute and then come back again and I had no desire to see Cobryn on the way. At the thought of him I scowled and got up, I was not even going to think of him.

Dinner was usually a quiet affair now, my father would sometimes ask my brothers and I what we had done that day, but any talk of Rivendell incensed him and as that was the place we had usually spent our time we had little to talk about. I picked at the rabbit stew on my plate, feeling my cheeks flush when Cobryn came into the room and poured us some more ale or banked up the fire. I could feel his eyes upon me, but I daren't look up at him.  
"Melusida." My father angrily muttered and I quickly put some of the stew in my mouth, his face remained grim, but he nodded. Perhaps the lack of money also explained why my brothers and I weren't allowed to leave food on our plates.  
"My lord, I would request some time with you, after dinner, to discuss a matter." My head instantly shot up, Cobryn stood by the fire, head held defiantly high.  
"It cannot be discussed now?" father glared at Cobryn.  
"It can, but I wish to offer no distress to your family and the household."  
My father's steely expression would have terrified me, but Cobryn remained where he was, blue eyes not moving from my father's brown ones.  
"Tell me now, boy. I have no time for games."  
Cobryn assented his head, "Very well, sir. I wish to join the Rangers of the North, I have proved myself with a bow to them and with a little training they believe me worthy of a place among them. They stay only for a while in Rivendell…" We were all staring at Cobryn, my mouth hung agape and I could see Hamnet trying to work out whether this was some extraordinary feat of daring or whether Cobryn was serious. The mention of Rivendell made my father instantly stand up, the plates and his goblet sent crashing across the hall.  
"You dare to come in here, with that name on your lips and the arrogance to suggest…!"  
"I merely hoped for your lordship's blessing and his assurance he would treat my mother kindly, after all her service these past years. But I do intend to leave."  
"Well you can go then and gladly, I'll not have an insolent, stupid boy like you among my servants and I have seen, don't think I haven't seen you making eyes at my daughter…!"  
"Father!" I cried, both in fear of his temper and in shock of the suggestion.  
"But you'll not have her, she is not for you, she is far better than you." My father continued, now brandishing his knife at Cobryn, who still stood calmly, watching my father in such a way it made my father's ranting look mad.  
"I have no desire for your daughter, sir. But I do have a desire to support myself and my family, both my mother and any future family I have."  
"Get out." snapped my father, Cobryn gave a curt bow and left through the doorway, into the kitchen. My father quickly finished his dinner and then stormed from the room, angrily shouting goodnight to us all.

When he had gone I slipped down from my seat and ran into the kitchen, Cobryn was furiously scrubbing some pans.  
"That was foolish." I said.  
"I have had enough anger from both you and your father, I do not need any more."  
"Cobryn, you cannot jest about leaving to my father, just to make a point…"  
Cobryn frowned at me, "I wasn't jesting, I talked with the Rangers today and showed them my skill, they have consented to take me with them. It'll be a rough life, but at least I have some choice in the matter." he said.  
I felt my stomach seemingly drop; I had not thought him serious, just trying to get my father to speak about the lack of money.  
"But what shall we do?" I found myself saying.  
"We?"  
"My brothers and I, Hamnet will miss your company and…"  
"I'm sure you'll find another dolt to clean your pans and find your dinner."  
He heaved some of the clean pans into a cupboard and then turned back to the rest, I caught his sleeve.  
"Cobryn…" I felt myself opening and closing my own mouth, like some strange fish. His eyes softened considerably and he suddenly hugged me.  
"I was sharp with you earlier; I did not mean what I said. You are kind to my brothers and I want to understand, why do we have no money?" I said.  
He shrugged, "I know not the reason, just that you have none. I realise you think I said this to hurt your pride, but I did not."  
I frowned, "If we do have a title then why do we have no wealth?"  
"You would need to ask your father that."  
Cobryn gave a wry smile, then looked down to his feet. I felt tears prickle in my eyes and my hand gripped tighter onto his sleeve. He gave a grim smile,  
"For all you've called me a dolt, in some ways I suppose I deserve it."  
"No you don't, I didn't know better… Sorry."

His smile softened too and his hand caught me under my chin and lifted up my mouth to his. I could feel the air I had breathed being knocked out of me and the warmness of his mouth. My anger and every other feeling melted, as his firm lips pressed against mine. He drew back and I slowly opened my eyes. He gave a confident smile, but where I would have once found that smile arrogantly sure, I now found it stupidly lovely. I rubbed the fabric of his shirt between my fingers, nervously looking away from his gaze and then looking back up, making him laugh.  
"Whoever gets you is going to be a lucky git." I giggled at his course language.  
"When will you be back?" I asked.  
He shrugged, "Never really know with the Rangers. Could be a few months, could be several years."  
I nodded, longing for more time, for more kisses. It felt as though he had burned my mouth with his light kiss.  
"Is this just in reaction to what I said…?"  
He gently touched my forehead and pushed away my hair. "In a way yes, but I want to explore the world further, there must be more to life than this place."  
"Is Hamnet to go with you?" I said.  
"I do not know, I have not discussed the idea with him. He can do, if he wishes." I suddenly felt Cobryn was older than my brother somehow, though Hamnet was a year older than he.  
He and my brother later discussed the matter, both wanting to go. It was strange; I gained a greater sense of things beyond my control. I sat on the kitchen table, while they discussed the training they would receive and the life beyond our home. I soon climbed down and went to bed; I hated feeling so apart from their world of choice.

I was surprised my father did not curse and rage like he had done yesterday when he heard both Hamnet and Cobryn were leaving. He just nodded and continued eating his breakfast, Hamnet looked a little hurt at his abrupt manner, but he hid his disappointment and went to pack his clothing away. Cobryn's mother at least cared for both Cobryn and Hamnet leaving, as did most of the other servants who came to wish them well and wave goodbye when they left for Rivendell. I hugged my older brother tightly and then shyly looked up at Cobryn, who quickly touched my hand before anyone else could see, he then turned to Dòmhnall.  
"You keep everyone well, Dòmhnall. Take care of my mother and your sister, while we're gone."  
Dòmhnall smiled, "You have no need to remind me to do that, it is my duty to do so." Hamnet grinned and hugged Dòmhnall; Cobryn gave Dòmhnall a friendly punch on the arm. Then they slung their bags onto their backs and walked down the hill, towards Rivendell. I saw father watching them both from our Hall's doorway, but when I caught his eye he scowled and walked back inside. Dòmhnall sighed on seeing my averted eyes.  
"Was he there?" he asked.  
"Aye."  
"He's going to regret not wishing Hamnet well and saying goodbye."  
"Hamnet and Cobryn will come back though," I said with certainty, Dòmhnall gave me a look.  
"We don't know, it's hardly safe being a Ranger."  
"Don't say something like that; they'll come back to us." Dòmhnall gently squeezed my shoulder.  
"If Thorongil's with them, then I am certain they will."  
But I still disliked the way Dòmhnall spoke as if this were to be the last time we saw them both.

* * *

So to start with, thank you everyone for reading. It's so wonderful having so many people read my work and the lovely reviews from Astraea Concord, Certh, Elvirith Eluchil and a guest (who's review I got in my emails).

Astraea Concord - Absolutely love PG, she's an amazing writer. Pity there aren't more fanfics on just her books, but then maybe I'm not looking in the right places! I shall reveal more about Melusine, but all in good time...

Certh - Ooh I did not know about Goldberry, I'll confess I have yet to read the books (*slaps wrist*), but I am doing a lot of research into any bits and pieces that I don't know. I'm at Uni doing English Lit at the mo, so I have lots of books to read and very little time. Hopefully when I go back in Easter I'll borrow my friend's trilogy. Thank you for pointing out that paragraph thing, I knew something was wrong with it, but I couldn't work it out. Must have been staring at it for ages! Hehe and yep, brownie points for you!

Elvirith Eluchil - I will try my very best, I'm getting better at finishing things on fanfic, but be warned I am not a patient sort so I do tend to skip years in my writing, if nothing really happens.

Guest - Thank you for your lovely words, I think it can be tricky getting the tone right with the Elves and last time I failed at it. But hopefully this will be better, so thanks for your interest in the story.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"But I wish to know, I should know…" I cried.  
"That must be your father's choice, not mine." Lord Elrond replied calmly.  
"You know my father would never tell me." I slumped down in one of the chairs and Lord Elrond raised his eyebrow and gave a smile.  
"Then he must relieve himself of his pride and be willing to trust you." he said, sitting down next to me with an old, leather bound book in his hand.  
"Father's pride is as deep as the Dwarf mines, he'll never tell me."  
Lord Elrond opened his book and gave a smirk, "Then you'll just have to wait."  
I realised it was useless questioning Lord Elrond as to the apparent loss of my family's wealth. I sighed and sat back in the chair. Then remembered there was someone else I could talk to about this. I got up, gave a curtsey and then ran to the door.  
"There is little point in asking Arwen, I have forewarned her and made her swear not to tell you."  
I could have stamped my foot then in fury.  
"But why not?"  
"These things must be told to you by your father, to question others would incur his wrath."  
"But if he will not tell me…"  
"He will be angered further if you go behind his back, he would see it as a lack of faith and trust."  
I came back over to Lord Elrond's chair,  
"He does not put his faith and trust in me. Very few seem to; no one will tell me the truth of any matter."  
Lord Elrond closed his book and gave a small chuckle.  
"So instead of your anger, you now try to win my sympathy?"  
I couldn't help but smile, "Perhaps."  
Lord Elrond laughed, "In many ways you remind me of Arwen. Trust me child, you will have to wait until your father is willing to tell you."  
"But suppose he never tells me?"  
"If he dies without telling you, then I shall freely speak of it to you. I trust you will not consider murdering your father to find out."

I laughed at that and then bid good day to Lord Elrond, for he clearly wished to peruse the book in his hand. I still felt disappointed at his discretion, but I knew he was irritatingly wise in choosing not to tell me. If he had I would have either been angry or saddened with my father and would have asked him why he chose not to tell me. I did not even bother seeking Arwen out and trying to break her oath, I knew she would not.

I spent the rest of the day in the forest, hunting game and setting up a fishing net. Father seemed to dislike it when I brought home food, but since Cobryn had gone I was better than most at catching it, father and his men made too much noise in the wood. We would be lucky if they brought back a sparrow for dinner! The Elves had taught me the importance of treading quietly, so you disturbed very little and could see the parts of the forest where an animal had disturbed the leaves or left faint marks in the mud. But I knew I was better at this than most because of my Mother-Goddess, even if Lord Elrond believed the myth to be untrue or did not wish it to be true. I frowned, lifting up some branches to see the ground clearer, that was a topic I often meant to breach with Lord Elrond but seemed to forget to. I suddenly let the branch spring out of my hands, if my mother was deceased then I could surely ask him about her history, presuming the same logic to my father applied to her. I could ask him why he thought she was Elfish and why he did not believe in the myth. I pulled my bow quickly onto my back and picked up my fishing net, it had caught a small trout; I deemed it more merciful to throw it back than attempt to cook it. When I had managed to capture hold of the wriggling fish and put it back into the water, I shoved the net into my pack and ran up towards the valley.

The sun was sinking low into the sky by the time I had reached the gate, I barely said hello to the guards as I ran madly up the path and into the great home. I would've kept on running had something not caught my eye when I ran into the hall displaying the shards of Narsil, the sword with a great story, which Lord Elrond had mentioned to me. I had read the story of the Siege of Barad-dûr after he answered my question on the use of a broken sword being kept, but it was complicated and my knowledge of history only beginning to fledge. Lord Elrond assured me that this matter was complicated and I was not to worry about it, for many did not know of the story. But that was not what interested me on this occasion.

Someone had pulled aside a green curtain of one of the wall paintings. The painting must have been there a long time, for the colours were a little faded, but it was easily recognisable, at least to me, and when the disappearing, golden sun shone through the arch ways it seemed to blaze alive. The water shone with a strange appearance of real lapping waves, the trees looked as though they could move as the shadows passed over them and the woman in the water reached out her hand to the man on the river bank. The woman was pale skinned and naked from her waist upwards. Beneath her waist under the water, curled a fish tail long and silvery blue in colour, distorted by the ripples. I reverently touched the woman's dark curled hair. That was my history, my mother's history. I could not quite believe it was here, so I remained where I was, staring at it for some time. I could feel my skin grow cold as the sun finally sunk behind the horizon. Why was this here?

I had stayed where I was for so long, that I did not hear anyone behind me.  
"We had hoped you need never know of this." Arwen's voice made me jump. I turned round.  
"What is this?"  
"You know it not?"  
"Of course I do, but you said…Why is this here? Why did you hide it from me?" anger crept into my tone, must I be lied to again and again?  
She came to my side, "Believe me, your mother and I did this to protect you, though we all knew it would be foolhardy to deny your mother's history, when you already displayed so many of her gifts."  
"What do you mean? Protect me?"  
She turned those wise, soft eyes on me, "To understand more you must go to the Lady Galadriel, she will explain this more fully to you, but…"  
"No, you will explain this to me now." I turned back to the painting, "Why is this here, with the sword of Isildur?"  
"Because his destiny and the destiny of his descendants have been part of your family's fate since Melusine."  
"She was real? Her story was real?" I breathed.  
"I know not whether she was real, but your family have great gifts and the man who crowned Isildur and became his Steward was an ancestor to you." I looked up at the man standing on the bank, his expression somehow miraculously painted to look surprised, awed and love-struck. Like the song said he had dark hair.  
"What does this have to do with me?" I asked.  
"That is what the Lady Galadriel will explain, what I can tell you now is Gondor will have a King again, if the Ring of Sauron is destroyed…" she said.  
"Wait, I do not understand…"  
"You do not need to, but for the King to be crowned you must fulfil your own fate now. Do you remember part of your family's song, where it says, 'And in the passions that they bared, in pledges won and secrets shared, they'd stand together in what destiny would bring…'?  
"…'and crown a king.'" I finished and looked up to Arwen, confused.  
"It is your destiny to crown a king." she said.  
"That makes no sense, how could I crown any king? Let alone a King of Gondor. I have travelled no further than here from my home, I have never set foot in Gondor…"  
"Neither had Melusine." she replied, with something of a smile on her lips and her eyes drawn to Melusine's tail.  
"Your father claimed before She was not real."  
"But it was her destiny as much as it is yours to crown a King of Gondor, a King above all others."  
"Why must I always know things, but not know everything?" I said.  
Arwen gave a slight smile, "Because we all have a part to play in this, your father, mine, your brothers, the Lady Galadriel, Ara-Thorongil."  
Judging by her expression I reasoned there would be little point in questioning her slip of the tongue.

"So I am to travel to Lothlórien?" I said. She assented her head.  
"I would go with my brothers."  
"I know not of Hamnet's whereabouts, but Dòmhnall can certainly travel with you and it would be unwise to travel without a guard. If Hamnet returns here I will tell him where you are." she said.  
"My father cannot spare his guardsmen." I said.  
"He shall not have to, as was planned by your mother and I, you will have my father's guards escort you there."  
"You planned this?"  
"It was planned when your destiny was spoken of."  
"I still don't understand." I said.  
"No, but you will do. It is not my duty to explain to you. I will accompany you back home and then tell your father and your brother what it is you must do."  
She gently steered me from the room, but I turned once more to her.  
"Why show me this now? Why did you unveil that picture?"  
"Because it was your destiny to see it, as it was mine to unveil it today."  
"Why did your father not want me to find out?"  
She shrugged, "I do not know that either, but perhaps the Lady Galadriel may advise you."  
We left Rivendell together and walked in silence. I was too busy cursing myself for everything I knew yet did not know. It seemed my whole life was made up of things I did not know, a huge mess of strings and knots. As soon as I had unravelled one piece of wool, another knot would appear. Never mind Gondor, I simply wished to know everything of my past and what was to be my future.

"And you think I will just let her go?" exclaimed my father. Arwen kept her cool composure, but I could see a glimmer of fear behind her eyes.  
"I realise this will be difficult, but Melusida's destiny is beyond all our own."  
"Ha! Destiny, fate! Aye, that's what you Elves love, is it not?"  
I could feel a painful blush rush onto my neck and cheeks, my father had been displeased on seeing the Lady Arwen, but had retained some decorum when she had first entered our home. Now he was furious, and no pretence of courtesy towards a Lady, elf or otherwise, remained.  
"Do you not understand the destiny that was spoken before her birth?" said Arwen, a little of her own anger betraying her tone. My father made that sarcastic 'Ha' sound as he had before.  
"Do you really believe a girl such as her, could crown a king?" he said.  
"Yes, I do believe a girl such as her could."  
I bit my lip nervously, it mattered little whether Arwen believed it or not, I doubted my own abilities to crown a king.  
"So a man with his own troops and the support of a country cannot claim a king's throne, but this girl can?"  
My father dared Arwen to contradict him, but she ignored the provocative look he gave her. I gazed up at my father, wondering what he meant by that.  
"Yes, I do. Sometimes what the world needs are kind words and deeds, not the sharp edge of a sword."  
I heard my father quietly mutter an oath under his breath.

A sudden thought slipped into my mind and I got down from my chair and ran up to my room. I pulled out my reading cards from under my bed and then went back downstairs, shuffling them within my hands, feeling their warmth and the softened edge of the pack. Father gave an impatient sigh when he saw them and to my surprise Arwen gave a frown.  
"Those things are nonsense, Melusida." she said gently, "They are just a way for mortals to think they're divining the future."  
"Forgive me, Lady Arwen, but to me they are not nonsense. They have always worked for me and my mother."  
I shuffled them once more and walked towards the table, closing my eyes and asking for a blessing from Melusine and my mother. I felt my eyes brim with tears when I thought of her, but I pushed aside the thought and picked my way through the pack of cards, I placed three on the table. The first was representative of myself, the second would tell me what would happen if I left, the third what would happen if I stayed. I turned over the first. The Fool, a young man in bright colours walking towards a cliff edge, hand opened as though welcoming the world.  
"What does it mean?" asked my father.  
"I chose this one to be myself, it is the Fool, the beginning of a journey. He is young and innocent, but prepared to face anything and not be daunted where those with more experience would be."  
I turned over the next, a blinded woman stood at the centre of a circle, either side of the circle were two men, one rising upwards looking gleeful; the other being thrown below, looking terrified. The Wheel of Fortune.  
"This is what will happen if I leave, my fate will be out of my hands, the wheel of fortune will turn and I may be thrown high or low."  
"And the third?" asked my father, his tone was gentler now, believing my Sight. I could scarce believe this; I flipped over the last card and felt an irrepressible shudder run through me at the sight of Death.  
"Why would this happen?" he asked.  
"It's if I stayed…" I whispered, "When mother died she made me read the cards and…He came up." I felt my hands shaking, until my father enclosed his hands on mine. I looked up towards his face, that gentle look seemed both unfamiliar and recognisable; I bit my mouth to stop myself weeping again. He had never liked my brothers and I crying, but that expression…I knew it from somewhere and it hurt.  
"It was my destiny to fall, as it is yours to rise. Before coming here, your mother read the cards and the Wheel came up before. I believed it meant I was to rise, but mortals can never control their fate." he said.  
"You are letting me go?" I asked.  
He nodded, leaning back in his chair, "It was never my fate to see the King crowned."  
"How did you try and crown the King? He is lost."  
I saw my father's eyes glance up towards Arwen, "Aye, he is lost, but that means he must be found."  
"Did you try to find him?" I said.  
"Aye, but…I went the wrong way about it."  
"What did you do?"  
He looked nervously towards Arwen, who shook her head,  
"Nay, she cannot hear of it just yet."  
He got up, gave me his blessing and kissed my forehead.  
"I forgot to look; you are nearly a woman grown." he smiled ruefully.  
I could no longer maintain my resolve when my father left the room, I wept and Arwen came to my side and embraced me.  
"Tonight you must sleep and be rested for the morn; the guards will come early and escort you and your brother to Lothlórien. Pack your things now, I will explain to your brother what we intend."  
"What of your father?" I asked.  
"He knows of this better than anyone, he knows this must be done."

* * *

This chapter I was really unsure about, I let my 'muse' do most of the work, so she sort of lead me here. I hope you all like it, but as I say I was just going over this chapter again and again. Thanks again to those following/favouring/reviewing my work.

Now in answer of some questions (or not as the case may be!):

Certh - Yeah, I don't tend to dig those stories where the characters are suddenly bosom friends with the Elves, just doesn't seem their style. So tricky trying not to slow the pace down, while implying it takes some time for Lord Elrond to even consider Melusida/her brothers as his adoptive children. It's not going to be a massive time before the War of the Ring, as Melusida is already trotting off to see Galadriel, but I'll try not to rush ahead.  
Strangely enough, I like Cobryn too, though he certainly wasn't an intended character within the story. I'm not really sure why my brain decided to throw him at me, but here he is!

Astraea Concord - I would love to tell you their titles and where they come from, but unfortunately that is part and parcel of the story, so you'll have to wait (like Melusida!). Afraid I can't answer many of your questions, as much as I would like to, otherwise I'll give the plot away. There's something of a hint in this chapter, but I have to be mysterious (like Lord Elrond!) and only give away an infuriating small amount of info.

Thank you again for your lovely reviews, I feel a little bit like a very happy dog when I see them in my emails and I definitely have an invisible wagging tail. Thank you to the guests and even those just following (though feel free to review whenever you like ;))!

Love Han xxx


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

I woke up from a strange dream, Melusine and mother had stood by my bed. They had spoken, but I had either not understood the words or their voices were too different. I tried to ask them questions, but I found my mouth tied by some invisible force and so all I could do was reach out towards them. But they remained beyond my grasp and I grew gradually frustrated and tired, finally gasping awake as though I had dreamt of a nightmare. I stayed awake for several minutes, curiously wondering whether Hamnet was cooking something; there was a burnt smell of wood and meat. But Hamnet was not here…I jerked forcefully awake then, out of my stupor. I could now hear the cries and shouts of people, running footsteps and an awful wailing noise. I grabbed my pack, already full of my clothes, a warm woollen cloak, my mother's book on herblore and her reading cards. I slung it on my back, grabbed my short sword and bow; I fumbled with the belt of my sword and cursed all of womankind for making me wear a nightgown. Before I had managed to put my quiver on my back, Dòmhnall burst through the door.

"What's going on?" I asked, quickly putting my boots on my feet.  
"Orcs, a pack of orcs. Father has bidden me to take you to Rivendell."  
He grabbed my hand and pulled me from the bedroom.  
"Draw your sword," he said, pulling an arrow from his own quiver and notching his bow.  
"But surely father can defend us?"  
"Aye, of course he can. But he'd rather we were safe in Rivendell."  
I drew out my sword, following my brother apace, until we had left the hall. Outside was chaos, fires had been lit and I could hardly tell man from orc, it was too dark and shadowy. When my boots hit something dark and sticky I grimaced and dared not look down.  
"Father!" cried Dòmhnall, running up to a dark figure, who had been ordering someone else at that point. He turned and I saw the raw, animal fear in his eyes. The fear of being caught and killed.  
"Why are you still here?" he clasped Dòmhnall on his shoulder and then kissed me on my forehead. He turned back to the battle.  
"My blessing to you both. If you see your brother tell him I gave him my blessing, ask him to forgive me for its lateness. Ask Melusine to protect me as well, while you're at it." he said gruffly.  
"We will see each other again, father." I said.  
He gave something between a shrug and a shake of the head. I was unsure what he meant by it.  
"Get gone." he said, furiously.

He thundered off into the darkness. Dòmhnall grabbed my hand and pulled me through the trees, into the forest. My ears now seemed sharpened to every noise, every creak of the trees or sigh of wind, I would turn, trying to find our enemy. Dòmhnall pulled me ahead, gaining pace.  
"There is little point in fighting, we must make it to Rivendell and beg Lord Elrond for arms as quickly as we can."  
"Father will come back." I said loudly.  
Dòmhnall made no reply and I feared what that anger and horror in my father's eyes meant and why he had wished Hamnet well…as though he would never see him again. I pushed away the thought, my father was a strong man, a good soldier, he would survive through this and the aid of the Elves would come in time.  
I ran alongside Dòmhnall. We were reaching the pinnacle of the hill; we would soon enter into the valley, into Rivendell. It felt as though my lungs were burning, my brain muggy and confused from the awakening, my legs ached. But still I kept on running, Death had already snatched away my mother, he would not do the same to my father. The guarded gates were a little way off, I may well have been Melusine fleeing the man who betrayed her, as I ran towards it.  
"Halt. Who is there?" called a guard.  
"Melusida…and her…brother." I managed to gasp, "We seek aid from…Lord Elrond, our home has been attacked by orcs…and there are too many of them…"  
The guard turned to his fellow, "Go wake his Lordship, tell him so and ready the guardsmen, he will be willing to help."

The guard opened the gate and allowed us in, while the other ran up to the main house. We were then escorted up the path towards the house, lights already being lit. I felt near exhaustion, but willed my legs to go on. Lord Elrond finally came down the stairs, wearing a dark burgundy gown over his nightshirt. His face looked worried.  
"Melusida, Dòmhnall, I am glad you are both safe." He gently placed his hands on our shoulders.  
"Our father is not, he needs aid." I cried.  
"I have summoned my guard; they will be with him shortly. But there is little you two can do, come into the house. Eruanna is brewing some tea for you both, Arwen is waiting for you, she is much concerned."

After guiding us to Arwen's ante chamber, Lord Elrond left to go with his guard. I just hoped we had not been too slow or spent too long talking here. I could barely sit still, wondering what was happening to our father and our home. Arwen came in, wrapped in a pale green gown. Dòmhnall instantly got up out of respect, but she shook her head to show him it wasn't needed. Her maid, Eruanna, poured us some tea and then left us, saying she would prepare some beds for us. Arwen took hold of my hand while I sipped at the warm liquid.  
"Are you both alright?" she asked.  
Dòmhnall nodded, "We will be when we hear news of our father."  
"Can you speak of what happened?"  
"I can only speak of what happened after father woke me and I woke Melusida, he had not time to explain what had happened. We were attacked by a band of orcs…" Dòmhnall said.  
"That is strange in these parts." Arwen said.  
"Father told Melusida and I to flee here and seek your father's aid."  
"It must be a difficult battle." I whispered.  
Arwen looked at me sympathetically and put her arm around my shoulders.  
"Your father is a brave and resilient man; he will fight his way through this."

We finished our tea then, mostly in silence, until Eruanna came to tell us our beds were prepared. I could do little but obey Arwen and be sent to bed. The bedrooms we had been given were beautiful, the windows opening up onto the valley and the rivers, the soft whispers of the bed sheets catching the wind. But I knew it would do me little good, I would not sleep tonight. I lay down in the cool covers, closing my eyes, but smelling once more that acrid stench of burning flesh. I prayed it had just been the flesh of already cut legs of ham or even the chickens in their coup. But as I opened my eyes, I knew in some way it had not been. I got up and sat on the edge of the bed shivering, despite the warmth of the summer. My stomach clenched and I swiftly got up to the basin on my wash stand, stomach heaving and then a foul wash of bile filled my mouth. I vomited into the basin several times, till I gripped onto the edge of the stand, shaking. I took a drink of water and then wrapped a cloak about my shoulders. I walked over to the windows, the moon appearing behind a cloud and lighting Rivendell in a silver, ghostly light.  
"Please don't let people die, Melusine." I whispered to the dark, "Please."

I turned from the window and walked out of my room, down the passage, towards the hall holding the shards of Narsil. The moon made the sword's broken shards gleam, but I ignored the sword. I went to the painting of Melusine again; I cast aside the curtain and lay down under the picture. The floor was cold and uncomfortable against my head, but I gathered my cloak around me and looked up towards Melusine and the unknown man on the bank. I looked away, trying to silent my tears. There was almost something sorrowful on his expression from this angle, as though he knew he would betray her. I closed my eyes, the sweet, cold air now filling my lungs and exhaustion from fear and running urging me to sleep.

* * *

'And when he kissed her, she was transformed. No longer a woman of the Water, but a woman of the Earth…'  
'Yuck, kisses.' Hamnet hung over his bed backwards, my mother smiled at him.  
'Do you not like kisses Hamnet?'  
'Nay, kisses are for girls.'  
'I think Melusida and I should kiss you a good deal then.'  
She stopped his cry of no, by ticking him under his chin and forcing him back in his bed.  
'Hush Hamnet, I want to hear the end.' said Dòmhnall.  
Hamnet sighed and puffed out his cheeks, 'I do not, I have heard it before a million times and it's all about a fish-woman, who falls in love with a stranger, there aren't any battles…'  
'Hamnet you can find a dozen stories on great heroes and their adventures, but it is rare to find one of a woman, especially when we are descended from her.' my mother said.  
'Are we really descended from her?' I asked.  
'Of course, my dear, that is why you are named after her.'  
Hamnet snorted, 'You are a fish, Melusida.'  
'I am not. But I want to hear the story.'  
'Well then of course, she went to Gondor with him and married him…' Hamnet let out another little sigh, but did not complain further.  
'They were happy, weren't they?' I said, though I knew the answer.  
'Very and she bore him many fine, beautiful children. But she made him swear he would let her bathe once a month without the presence of her servants or anyone else...'  
'Her husband was silly; he should not have broken his oath.' Dòmhnall said.  
My mother smiled and nodded, 'Ah, well there is the warning of the story. Curiosity became too much for her husband and so one night he…'

* * *

"Melusida, Melusida…wake up." Arwen shook me awake, her face pale, the first light of dawn creeping through the windows. I rubbed my forehead, blearily trying to focus on where I was. Arwen dragged me out from under the painting and pulled the curtain back over. She pulled me from the hall, rather forcefully for a lady and brought me back to my room. The bowl with my bile had been taken away.  
"Sorry…" I muttered, nodding my head towards the empty wash stand.  
She shook her head, "That hardly matters. We will not be able to leave for Lothlórien today and I think a good many of your people will need rest for a few days."  
"Is my father here?" I asked, instantly awake.  
"Not yet, but I am certain he will be, my father has yet to return also. Now, why don't you sleep in a proper bed and then later on we shall have breakfast together."  
I dreamily climbed into the bed and she gave my hand a quick squeeze, before kissing me goodnight. Arwen was so like a mother and sister to me, I was blessed to have her companionship. I closed my eyes once more and fell back into dreaming.

Only this time I dreamt I was Melusine herself. As the song said I rose above the surface of the cool lake, looking around the green of the forests and river bank ahead. I waited. I waited for what felt like hours. I swam to the bank and pulled myself onto it, but I was still a maid of water, not a woman of earth. Out of the water my tail felt heavy and the air felt harder to breathe. I sank back into the water and waited, occasionally going up and down the river, searching for him. But he never came. Finally, I saw a boat. Although it occurred to me it was akin to the one we used for our funeral burials, I thought nothing of swimming up to the boat and pulling it to shore. I pulled myself out of the water and stared down at the man within the boat, his eyes closed, his chest impaled with arrows, a white tree emblazoned upon his tunic. I pressed my hand on the smooth circle of his shield and his horn held tightly in his hand. I bent my head down and kissed his cold lips, but I knew it would not work. To become a woman of Earth a woman needed the firm and warm love of a man of Earth. Dead men do not provide warm and everlasting love. I could feel tears slip down my cheeks, but I did not know why I cried; I was not Melusine, I knew this man not and this was not how the story was meant to be.

Once more, when I ate my breakfast and heard Lord Elrond had returned, I knew what had happened. When my brother and I went outside with Arwen, we saw the guard following Lord Elrond on his bay horse, carrying a litter with a dark blanket thrown over the top. Lord Elrond looked grim, there were very few of our people amongst them and as I looked at the blanket, I realised who that could be. I sank to my knees, just staring at the dark mass. Melusine had not sung to me, but she had sent me a message nevertheless. Dòmhnall had looked confusedly at me then as I wept bitter tears. As Lord Elrond approached him, his face still dark, my brother's face crumpled into realisation.  
"I am sorry for you both, we arrived in time, but your father was struck badly."  
"Did he say anything when he died?" my brother asked.  
"I was not with him when it occurred, though some of my soldiers believed he said…he said he was returning to Melusine again." He cast me a look then, furtive and saddened.  
I ran then, ran from Lord Elrond, along the hallways and up to my bedroom. I sank onto my bed, my grief made my throat feel raw and my lungs burned for air. I did not want another death; I could not bear another death. I felt my hands scrabble at the sleeves on my dress, my nails tearing at the flesh on my skin. The stinging pain did not help the agony of my whole being. Dòmhnall barged into my room, followed by both Arwen and Lord Elrond. Dòmhnall grabbed me and held me in his arms, rocking me back and forth, till I lay listless in his arms. I vaguely heard Lord Elrond say something to Arwen, who then left the room. He came next to me.

"Arwen has gone to fetch you a drink, it will soothe you and let you sleep a dreamless sleep."  
I numbly shook my head, Lord Elrond gently placed a soothing hand on my forehead.  
"Hush, now is not the time."  
I remembered he said how he would tell me what he knew of my father if he died…now I did not wish to hear it, I did not wish to hear anything at all. Arwen came back with a flask and unstopped it, she passed it to her father. Dòmhnall supported my head, while Lord Elrond pressed the flask to my lips and I drank the liquid. It tasted sweet and I soon felt my head grow heavier and my eyes fighting to remain open. Dòmhnall placed me onto the pillows and pulled up the blankets around me. The last I recalled, was my brother saying he would say and then I fell into a dreamless sleep, as Lord Elrond had promised.

* * *

Muse went into overdrive last night, I had to finish this at 1.45am! I'm not sure if this is overly dramatic, hopefully it's not. I'm jut going with whatever my muse wants really...which is probably not a good thing. Hey ho!

Astraea Concord - I really want to, but if I do I'll just give away the entire plot. I think in some ways he did become colder because of his wife dying, but there's more to his pride and coldness than that...as you'll find out!  
Well it's a good job I've made Dòmhnall and Melusida orphans then, because they're going to be spending a lot of time with the Elves now. Haha, yeah sorry about that, know how it feels, I am the most impatient person I know.

Certh - double thanks to you, for reading the Bards of Alderthron (I had pretty much forgotten all about that story, that was just a random burst of creativity) and this chapter. Hehe, yep Elrond has mellowed, I don't think he dislikes Melusida (I don't think anyone really can), but he does know something about her that makes him nervous...but yet again I can only hint at that and not tell anyone why.

TS17isme - Thank you immensely, glad you're enjoying the story.

Thanks to all my lovely reviewers and readers, the traffic graph on this thing is insane!

*Any better? Sorry about the spelling mistakes and errors, it is never a good idea to write that early in the morning. In fairness my muse is a pain, because rather than writing anything between say eight and ten, she decides to randomly wake me up and gets me to write for hours on end! Anyway, I hope this new, checked version is better, think I went slightly insane last night!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

I was barely conscious for my father's funeral, Lord Elrond did not allow me any of the drink, but I felt like my body had somehow fled apart from my mind. I was watching myself stare at the boat as it tipped over the edge of the waterfall and hearing my brother sing the lament Hamnet should have sung, but was not present to sing.

_"Sink into your mother's arms,_  
_The womb that gave you birth._  
_Let her take your secrets back,_  
_and lay them in the Earth._

_Let her take you in her arms,_  
_Let her take you home._  
_Let her take you home._  
_Let her take you home._  
_Leave the her the gifts she gave,_  
_Of flesh and breath and bone._

_Sink into your lover's arms,_  
_The womb that made you whole._  
_Let her waters slake the thirst,_  
_You carry in your soul._

_Let her take you in her arms,_  
_Let her take you home._  
_Let her take you home._  
_Let her take you home._  
_Leave to her the dreams you made,_  
_Of honour, steel and stone._

_Sink into your sister's arms,_  
_The womb you need not know._  
_Let her fire consume the frame,_  
_Of what you were before._

_Let her take you in her arms,_  
_Let her take you home._  
_Let her take you home._  
_Let her take you home._  
_Leave to her the mysteries,_  
_Of maiden, mother, crone."_

I knew I cried, but could not feel the tears or my body shaking with sobs. Everyone finally went back inside when my brother's lament was done, I could not sing. Dòmhnall turned to look at me, but I shook my head and walked towards the elegantly crafted bridge. I wanted to feel again, feel anything again, even the pain inside me. I looked at the scratches on my skin, tempted to draw blood again, to feel again.  
"You are frightened of feeling." Lord Elrond had come to my side, "It is the noble of heart who let themselves weep for the lost."  
I shook my head, "I can't."  
"You can, if you would wish it."  
I let the sob be pulled out of my chest and the clawing feeling enter again when I wanted air, I hated breathing. Lord Elrond put his hands on my shoulder and turned me to look at him.  
"You have lost much my child, but your brothers still live and while there is life there is still hope."  
I remembered my mother, saying how there were only two certainties in life. Death and Hope. I had near given up on life, welcoming Death, wishing for the air to stop reaching me…but still there was that small, white flame, glimmering inside my mind.  
"Will it get better?" I asked.  
Lord Elrond nodded slowly, "It is a question of time passing, seeking help from others and wanting things to get better. But for now, you can mourn."

I cried then, feeling all my pain escape my body. It didn't help much, but it helped a little and after I was done my mind seemed part of me again, although it came with all the fresh pain and anger anew. I gripped the sword handle at my side; I would kill a thousand orcs to avenge my father. Lord Elrond gave me a small frown and I leaned my body against the bridge.  
"Where will we go?" I said.  
"Go?"  
I nodded, "After we have mourned?"  
He gave something of a sad smile, "Do you know how long you will mourn for?"  
My lip trembled, "No, but…"  
"You will stay indefinitely, until you are willing to leave, I shall not force you away from us. Arwen, Elladan and Elrohir would never forgive me and neither would your brother Hamnet. He will want you two to be here to tell him."  
"What if he does not come back?" I whispered, the thought horrifying me.  
"Hush, think not upon that. We must have faith he will."

Lord Elrond guided me back towards the house, where Arwen waited at the top of the stairs; she sympathetically drew her arm around me and led me into a small chamber. I sat down in one of the chairs and rested my head.  
"You are weary; allow yourself a little time to heal. Do not be hard on yourself." she said. I nodded.  
"We are not going to Lothlórien anymore, are we?" I said.  
She gave a soft smile and shook her head, "Nay, dear one. I would not put you through such a journey, when your spirit is so ill at ease."  
"When will we go?" I asked.  
"When you are ready, I shall not question you on when you are, you will need to tell me." She kissed my forehead and then left me with more sweet tea and some of her books, but I could scarcely look at the books. Dòmhnall joined me after a while, not saying anything, just sitting next to me. A brother's promise to always be here, shown only with his eyes. When the Elves began their lament for my father's memory he hugged me tightly and let me cry against him.

I was not ready and I did not know when I would be, the loss of both father and mother had shook me badly. I felt adrift without them both, I had been lost without my mother's gentle, kindness and now lost again without my father's stern, steadfastness. Arwen and Dòmhnall would encourage me out of my room; they would take me on long walks through Rivendell, though sometimes I spoke not a word to anyone during the day. Although I loved Arwen like a sister, I found Dòmhnall's steady presence to be most comforting in those days. Gradually the pain lessened and eventually the days began to feel like days again, not long hours of sunlight were I did nothing and did not wish to. I knew Arwen and Lord Elrond worried about me, but this was the manner of my mourning, both for losing my father, my mother and my home. I remembered my oath one day, sitting next to the practice ring, where Dòmhnall and Elladen were practicing swordplay. I had sworn no one I loved would be slain by an orc's weapons again. So each morning, before anyone but the servants were up, I would go down to the practice ring and fight against invisible foes for hours, gradually picking up weighty swords than my short one.

Dòmhnall once found me thus and I expected him to lecture me against it, but he simply picked up his own sword and entered the ring himself. So it continued; we would battle for hours, both of us having sworn never to see the other hurt. I was certain one day Lord Elrond would catch sight of us doing so or hear of us, but if he did he never made comment on it and he never berated me for practicing something so unladylike. Even Elladan and Elrohir came out at times, sometimes to watch us and give us advice, at other times to practice with us. I cared not for the past or the future at those times, not caring what my destiny was and how I was meant to fulfil it. I remember the first time I felt something akin to joy when I nearly knocked Elrohir's sword from his hands.  
"Thorongil and his men will have to watch out with you, you are as good as any man." said Elrohir, smiling.  
"None of them will dare to mention your garden again." said Elladen, clasping my shoulder.  
"I thank you." I said, words somehow were still stilted in my mouth, but I had learnt to show everything with my eyes. Elladen smiled at me.  
"I am for a rest, will you come to breakfast?" he asked Dòmhnall and I.  
Dòmhnall nodded, but I just put my sword away and wiped the sweat from my forehead with an old rag.  
"Melusida…?" Elrohir questioned.  
"Nay, thank you. I want to practice my skills at archery."

I picked up my cloak, quiver and bow from the side of the practice circle and then walked towards the archery fields. I glanced towards Elrohir and Elladen, both of whom looked concerned, but my brother knew and understood. He guided them away towards the dining hall and I was left with nothing but the tight pull of string under my fingers, the balance of the arrow and the smooth wood within my hands. I had begun to practice hitting the target while moving, sometimes walking and at other times running. Although my aim had never been as true as the Elves, I was fairly decent at archery, though Dòmhnall was better.

* * *

This was how I lived, how I survived for the better part of a year. I could not travel or go anywhere till I found strength within myself again and that flame of Hope sought dry ground and burned with a brilliant light. I knew I had to be like Melusine, giving up every part of her immortal life among the reeds for the man she loved. That was a form of bravery too. I would sometimes wander down into the Narsil Hall and stare at the picture. My destiny needed me to be strong, as did the journey I would take. But I would decide when this happened. So I rested and waited till I was seventeen. But although my soul healed and my mind was eased by the gentleness of the Elves, I still practiced daily, my once soft, pale hands gaining nicks and cuts from wielding the sword and bow.

Although I had wished to know nothing, I knew it would aid me, so one day after my sword practice, breakfast and changing into suitable clothes I made my way to Lord Elrond's study. I knocked on the door, wincing with some pain at my bruised knuckles.  
"Enter." his calm voice replied, I opened the door and he looked up at me.  
"I was wondering when you would visit me." he said.  
"You made a promise to me, some years ago, that if my father died you would tell me the truth of my family."  
Lord Elrond put his fingers together and nodded.  
"I did."  
"You will keep your word?" I asked.  
"You doubt me?"  
"Nay, I just long to know."  
He considered me for a moment and then drew a book from his shelves.  
"Dòmhnall should know of this too, I will send someone to fetch him, look at this in the meantime." He placed the book on the desk, it was a history of Gondor, my hand gently lingered over the white tree on the cover.  
"You know it?" he said.  
"Yes, but I cannot remember where from…"  
"From another book perhaps?"  
"Nay, it was in a dream…There was a man in a boat, he had been shot through with arrows, he had the white tree on his tunic."  
Lord Elrond frowned, "Did you know the man?"  
I shook my head. Lord Elrond looked down at the book, then back to me. He called to one of the servants in the hallway, asking him to bring my brother. He then sat behind the desk, looking at me intently; I disliked that stare and instead focused on the book.

Opening it I came across a family tree of the Kings of Gondor, I gave a smile when I read Isildur's name, knowing that my ancestor had fought for him and become his Steward, knowing the Steward had married Melusine. When Dòmhnall finally arrived he sat down next to me and looked quizzically up at Lord Elrond.  
"Your sister is right, as promised I said I would speak of your father and what I knew. You are both aware Gondor has no king?"  
We nodded.  
"And you know whom rules in his place?"  
"The Steward, once advisor to the King, now stands in his stead." replied Dòmhnall.  
"You know his name?"  
"Denethor."  
"So he is related to us." I said.  
"In a very distant way yes, but most men have many children. It is unclear whether you are direct descendants or come from another part of that family."  
I glanced up, irritated. Lord Elrond silenced me with his gaze.  
"What does this have to do with father?"  
"Your father came from Anfalas, he held a small Lordship there and…"  
"Father came from Gondor!" cried my brother.  
"As did your mother, though she hailed from Belfalas and the two actually met in Minas Tirith, when your father was a Captain under Denethor…"  
"Then why are we here?" Dòmhnall shouted at once.  
"There were many who believed the Stewards of Gondor had unfair right to the throne, that like a Kingship they were given it purely because they were descended from the House of Húrin. Your father was one to believe that they needed to prove their worth…"  
"That seems reasonable." said Dòmhnall, I hushed him.  
"What did he do?" I asked.  
"Your father held a rebellion against Denethor and although many people spoke in favour of your father, Denethor was a remarkable soldier and well liked then. Your father's army was destroyed and he was forced to flee with your mother and Hamnet, who was only a year old at the time. I have heard tell that Denethor is something of a cruel man now, but he allowed your father to escape and so banished him from Gondor and Rohan."  
Dòmhnall said nothing now, just stared at his clasped hands in front of him.  
"That still does not tell us why we are here." I said. Lord Elrond nodded.  
"As your father was not permitted to stay in Rohan, he came here, believing it to be the safest place. When he arrived your mother was pregnant with you Melusida and he knew what it was to be a father, to fear for the lives of his children…Though that did not stop him asking me for arms…"  
"Father wanted you to rebel against Denethor?"Dòmhnall had found his voice again.

Lord Elrond gave a wry smile.  
"Yes, he did. He believed Denethor was not to be trusted and was a cold, heartless man."  
"What did you do?" Dòmhnall said.  
"I refused; Denethor was as good as any Steward that had been before and I pointed out that he had guarded the kingdom well against an armed force. I confess I am not so admiring of Denethor now, especially when we hear tell of how he treats his son, Faramir."  
"How does he treat his son?" I asked.  
"He scorns the gifts and skill his younger son has, in favour for the older, Boromir. But I do not believe that the two brothers have any malice between them despite this. They guard Gondor well." The names of Boromir and Faramir sounded familiar, but I just put it down to reading it somewhere and not paying as close attention as Dòmhnall did to history.

"So our family are traitors…" said Dòmhnall bleakly.  
"What your father did has no bearing over what you decide to do. It may be possible for you to return to Gondor and ask for forgiveness for your father's crimes."  
"He hid so much from us." my brother whispered.  
"There was both good and bad in hiding that, but do not let that cloud your opinion of your father…"  
"How can we not let it?" I burst out in anger, "Our father was a traitor, the name of our house is a traitor's name."  
"A traitor in only but name, do you not believe a person has the ability to redeem themselves?"  
"Well he cannot anymore, he is dead."  
"He can redeem himself through you. The Lady Finduilas, mother to Boromir and Faramir, liked your mother especially. Lord Denethor will not forget that."  
"Could she pitch our claim for us?" Dòmhnall asked.  
"I'm sure she would, if she was still among the living."  
"Oh…"  
"I am happy to assist you in this attempt; I can spare some guardsmen to take you to Lothlórien, through Rohan and onto Gondor."  
"What of our brother?" Dòmhnall said.  
"If he returns here I shall tell him of your whereabouts and he can follow you to Gondor. With any good fortune he could be there now."  
"In Gondor?" I said, "Why did you not tell him of what you knew, he could have asked Lord Denethor?"  
"Because I should not be the one to tell your brother of your father's passing, nor what he did to the Lord Denethor. I fear if I had told Hamnet then Lord Denethor could have found out about your brother's past and banished him from Gondor."  
"Why do you think he will not banish us?" I said.  
"There will be three of you to pitch your claimant; Hamnet will have proved his worth by serving Gondor, Dòmhnall has studied the history and politics of that land and you Melusida look like your mother. With any luck he will be swayed by having the three of you remain as his subjects."

I got up at that point, my anger burning my insides. Was that all I was to offer, a pretty face? The familiarity of my mother, not even the recognition of my own being and person. I gave a short bow to Lord Elrond then swiftly left the room, picking up my bow from my own room. We had been forbidden from leaving the grounds of Rivendell now; Lord Elrond believed there was a greater evil than that of orcs threatening this once peaceful land. I walked to the edge of the boundary and took a path that led round the house in a great arc, my fury filled my veins. I finally let out a savage cry and thrashed at some ivy trailing down a tree. I hated how I was still nothing to them, still a girl in their eyes, who made herself look foolish by picking up a sword. As I lashed out against the silver, green ivy I suddenly felt my mother's reading cards spill from my pocket and I hastily knelt down to pick them up. Strangely, even without my mother's blessing or Melusine, I picked up one of the cards as though I was performing a reading. The Seven of Wands. A lesson to learn the value of courage and the value of fear, there could be no bravery without facing fears. Inner courage was stronger than any physical strength.

I gathered the rest of the cards up, knowing what I had to do. I was a girl no more and now had to face every fear on the road ahead. I would prove to them that I was not just a girl of Water, but a brave and relentless woman of Earth. I would fulfil my destiny, the destiny that in my grief and anger I had forgotten. But it was to be my own, neither Melusine's, my father's, my mother's or my brother's, not even that of the Elves'. I would journey to Lothlórien and discover more of my past, the truth in everything; I could no longer live knowing only the barest details, the scraps of knowledge.

* * *

Right, could be posting up a possible two chapters today (though one's quite short) in apology for my awful spelling yesterday. I have gone through this chapters roughly 3-4 times each, so hopefully they'll be a lot better.

Astraea Concord - More Elf/Melusida and Dòmhnall relations in this chapter too, just for you! :D Yeah, I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this story (in terms of Boromir stuff), but I'm sure I'll figure it out, there's just many options I could take. And I think your line of thought is correct, in the next chapter Lady Galadriel says that Melusida will always be alone, unless she fulfills her destiny (but I mustn't ruin it with spoilers!). Glad you enjoyed and hopefully you can forgive me over my rushed piece last night.

Certh - Thanks for reading as well, you mostly just echoed each other, so I don't have too much to reply with (aka the spelling/grammar stuff). Think I might include some more dreams and things like that :)


	6. Chapter 6

The White Council

We watched her return, her arms scratched by thorns, her dress' hem dirtied by mud. There was something beautiful and fearful within her light blue eyes. Arwen followed my gaze and looked down at Melusida.  
"She is a girl no more, she is a woman grown." There was something sad and regretful in her tone, but hope still lingered in her voice. When she left the room and ran down to meet Melusida she embraced her as though she had been gone for years, not only an hour at most. Melusida nodded her head.  
"I am ready to go." she said to Arwen, who nodded and guided her inside.  
I closed my eyes momentarily; I had hoped to allow her never to see her home.

* * *

I had spoken to the Lady Galadriel, Mithrandir and Saruman about this and they had warned me of the dangers of allowing her to go. Though all had taken different views on the matter:

"Sauron will attempt to control her, no matter where she is, she is a danger here and wherever she treads. It is better she learned to control her skills and close her mind to him." said the Lady of Lothlórien.  
"Keeping her here will do just the same." said Saruman, "It is better for her to be here, rather than in a place such as Gondor."  
"You would keep her prisoner here? What if she wishes to leave?" asked Mithrandir.  
Saruman frowned, "Will she not do as she is told?"  
"Ah but my friend, you forget her feelings in the matter, will she not resent it?"  
"It matters little if she resents it."  
"Saruman, you forget this girl is different from most. She is neither mortal nor immortal, neither from the race of men, elves or Istar, this girl belongs nowhere." Lady Galadriel said. "This is not a girl to be controlled or told what to do, she is beyond such things."  
Saruman harrumphed and shook his head.  
"My lady, forgive me, but I believe perhaps Saruman is right. To treat her any differently from any mortal girl would be to arouse her suspicions. If we treated her like any other girl then she will see herself thus, keeping herself safe from any influence of Sauron." said Mithrandir.  
"To do so would be foolish, it would allow Sauron to permeate her thoughts, to use her innocence against her." Lady Galadriel's eyes turned cold and she looked to me.

"Let me take the child, she will be protected in my land, the power of Sauron shall not reach her there. I can train her, teach her…"  
"You assume her mother would easily let her go." I said.  
"If she wishes her daughter safe then she should."  
"To tell a mother to let go of her child is to tell the mountains to move." said Saruman, Mithrandir nodded in agreement.  
"She endangers her mother's life, her own people and yours. You know this, Elrond." Lady Galadriel said to me.  
"If Arwen endangered my life I would still be unwilling to let her go, as you did with your own daughter…"  
I saw that cool, beautiful façade of the Lady of Lothlórien tremble under my words and her eyes filled with tears.  
"Speak not of that to me."  
"You ask a mother give up her child, while you weep for your own?" I pointed out.  
Lady Galadriel turned away from us and moved towards the window.

"I am surprised you do not weep for your own wife, Elrond." said Mithrandir, near scolding me for the solitary form of Galadriel.  
"Calaeriel was not my wife." I replied evenly, "I did not mean Celebrian, when I spoke of the Lady Galadriel's child."  
"Who was Calaeriel then?" asked Saruman, frowning.  
"A girl who was lost. We do not speak of her now." said Lady Galadriel, turning round to face us once more, her face impassive.  
"Surely we should? This does concern Melusida." I said.  
"Keep her here, keep her safe. If she knows little of her family's past then we have nothing to fear…" she said.  
"But what of the destiny you spoke of?" I asked.  
She looked away from me, "If she kept here then she cannot fulfill it."  
"But surely to crown the King of Gondor and to fulfill the fate of Middle Earth means she must?" said Mithrandir.  
"Her influence is not required." Lady Galadriel made her way towards the door, "All men will doubt her, as men always doubt the power and strength of women. But Melusida especially, because she will always be alone…"  
"If she fulfills her fate then she will not." Mithrandir said.  
"The happiness of one woman matters little in these things." said Saruman.  
Galadriel nodded and then left the room.

I sat behind my desk.  
"These are confusing times." I said.  
Mithrandir nodded, "You know my opinion on the matter, if I can assist Melusida in any way then I shall. The Lady Galadriel has spoken on the fate of Estel, it does not matter if this girl is not destined to be a queen, the importance of her own path is undeniable."  
"It is unwise, my friend, to…" said Saruman.  
"To deny the course of fate and the will of Valar? Aye, that is unwise." Mithrandir picked up his staff and followed Galadriel after bowing to myself and Saruman.

I picked up the picture of Melusine again, studying it intently; while she stood in the river water, the moon behind her head, she walked upright. She carried a sword between her hands. Presenting it to someone. I flipped over the page; she knelt upon the ground, offering the sword up to the King, while his Steward stood at his side. The King had only eyes for the sword, the Steward seemed overawed by her beauty, the lilies garlanding her dark hair, the white gown showing her bare shoulders. On the other page the same lady turned back to the lake she had come from, the young Steward had fallen to his own knees, arm outstretched towards her.  
"Is she really the same woman to Melusine?" Saruman broke me away from my thoughts. "I had believed she was a woman with a tail."  
He gave something of a smile and sat opposite me.  
"There are many differing stories of her, but Melusine represents everything; she is a woman of Water firstly, a woman of Fire when she first loved, a woman of Earth when she became a married wife and a woman of Air when she was betrayed and fled." I turned to the page of the betrayal of Melusine, her face a horrible mask of torment, mouth open wide, singing or screaming, the wings upon her back spread open like a dark dragon's.

"That is what we avoid?" Saruman smiled and went over the window, where the noises of a baby could be heard. I got up and went to look out; Melusida lay in the grass, Arwen sitting next to her tickling her toes and Hamnet capering around making her giggle. I had the strangest feeling she caught sight of both Saruman and I watching them, for eyes grew very wide and she seemed to gaze up at us, now ignoring her brother.  
"Very fearsome." Saruman laughed.  
I looked back to the baby, now sucking her fingers. Her gaze was one of utmost seriousness and I felt myself puzzling over how any child could look that intently at someone.  
"She will stay here, she is safer where the land is still innocent and there are people to protect her." I said. Saruman nodded and we then walked from the room.

* * *

Because I love throwing in curve balls ;) and giving you guys yet more unanswered questions!

Thanks once more to everyone's reviews today, I really appreciate it.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Dòmhnall seem to have easily accepted the role he was to play and the journey ahead. He ate his breakfast quickly and my sensible, younger brother could barely sit still in his seat. Like me he had many questions, very few of which I could provide satisfactory answers for, I sympathised with his frustration but he seemed to care little that there was so much we did not know.  
The guardsmen soon knocked on our door and I hastily finished my porridge, the day would be long and it would be unwise to journey on an empty stomach. I picked up my sack. My sword I carried at my side and I had my bow and quiver on my back. Dòmhnall just had his bow, he had never been as good with a sword, but he had his dagger.

As we walked along the veranda, Lord Elrond and Arwen came out to see us then, to give us their blessing and to wish us well on the journey. Arwen embraced us both,  
"Stay safe. No gelin i vin, adh aphado i chwest."  
"Novaer, hiril nîn." I replied. She deftly touched my cheek and smiled.  
Lord Elrond then placed his hands upon Dòmhnall's and my own head, as our father should have done. Giving us his blessing.  
"'Na lû n'i a-goveninc." he said, my brother gave him a bow and I followed his suit. The guardsman helped us onto our horses and Arwen and her father, along with the few remaining of our own servants, and the servants of Rivendell waved us off. The majority of our servants had travelled to Bree after asking my brother and I whether they could. I was content to let them go and be able to work for their own money; I thanked them heartily for their sacrifice and loyalty to our house. Lord Elrond even gave them a little money to establish themselves comfortably before they found work. I looked back to the home that was almost the home of my childhood, then beyond that to the woods and river where my real home had been. If I journeyed to Gondor would I see it again? I decided to think not upon it, but followed the guardsmen up the valley, away from Rivendell.

Dòmhnall rode to my side, "Do not fear, we shall see them again."  
"Did not you say that about father, about Hamnet and Cobryn?" I asked.  
His face turned grim, "Yes, but we know Hamnet and Cobryn live and they will return to us."  
"How do you know that?" I asked.  
He gave a smile, possibly the first one without any fear for a year or so,  
"Melusine." he said simply.  
"You know Melusine only comes to the women in our family." I sighed.  
He gave a shrug, "I am still one of her descendants, I know in my heart they live; as does Thorongil."  
I frowned, "Why does it matter if Thorongil lives?"  
"You are not as cold as that, we like Thorongil and I believe he intends to marry Arwen, she deserves to be happy."  
"How do you know he intends to marry Arwen?" I snorted.  
"Lord Elrond likes him and so does Arwen."  
"That does not mean they will marry."  
"Doesn't mean that they won't."  
"How can Arwen marry a mortal man? He'll die long before her."  
"Death holds no fear or bounds for those in love. How many stories have lovers willing to die for each other? Thousands."  
"That is nonsense," I said, "You cannot reciprocate love when dead." I spurred my horse onwards, but my brother caught up with me.  
"Of all the people to say that, I would never think of you…"  
"I'm not saying I dislike the idea of love or even dying for it, I just think…Well if a person dies then they leave the person to live out the rest of their life without the love or companionship of the other person."

"Melusine still loves us all, that is why you can hear her cries when someone you love dies."  
"A fine gift that is." I snapped.  
He came closer to my side, "I know why we journey on to Lothlórien, it would be easier to go straight onto Rohan, but the Lady Arwen knows. She told me a little of what our history means and how the Lady Galadriel will speak of your fate."  
"Do you believe I have one?"  
"We must all do, but perhaps yours is more important." he grinned. I smiled back at my youngest brother.  
"I wish I understood it better."  
"Well that is why we seek out the Lady Galadriel."  
I liked his simple confidence, believing that when we came to Lothlórien all the questions would be answered, all the problems resolved. I do not believe I ever had such innocence and faith in others, had I always believed there would be some questions that could never be answered? Perhaps when I was younger it was more that there were questions, but it was easier to dismiss them and forget.

We journeyed for many days and I was surprised the journey was not fraught with difficulties, I had expected orc attacks to be a daily occurrence and so when we left Rivendell the only relative danger was being soaked by rain. I once mentioned this to Elladan, who laughed.  
"You see fears beyond every turning. It would take a particularly stupid group of orcs to attack seven elves, all of whom had weapons. Besides, even if they did risk it, your skill with a sword is as good as anyone's here, they'd be fools to try and take you."  
"Why would they take me?" I asked, thinking they would be far more likely just to kill me outright. Elladan shifted nervously in his saddle and I frowned.  
"They sometimes eat the flesh of men, but we shall not think upon that. They would have a weighty opponent if they tried." he smiled, but I knew there was some hidden truth kept within the depth of his eyes. I kept staring at him, but his face remained inscrutable. What would they take me for? Who would they take me for? Had the ransacking of my own home meant something other than a violent and savage attack? I'd always assumed that it had no cause, just the bloodlust and violence of orcs, but perhaps Elladan's slip meant they were after something else…I'd become practiced in soothing my temper when people told me everything yet nothing, I knew there was little I could do about it. I just hoped the Lady Galadriel did not deem it best that I should remain in darkness and though I found lights I always found another brighter and larger light beyond that.

Another difficulty seemed to be the direction we ought to take; Elrohir argued fiercely we should go over the mountains, rather than through Isengard. Orc attacks aside, seeing him argue with his twin brother, who normally agreed with him on nearly every account was probably the most surprising to my brother and I.  
"Why? Why would you not have us go through Isengard, it is the easiest way. I realise it is not the quickest, but how can you expect nine horses and two mortals to go over the mountain?" said Elladan.  
"I realise it would be difficult, but we can just go over the mountain and reach the Lady Galadriel that way, rather than going all the way through Isengard, back up through Rohan and then onto Lothlórien."  
"What is it you fear will happen in Isengard?" Elladan asked.  
Elrohir gave a shrug, Elladan sighed.  
"Father trusts Saruman."  
"In the same way many of our people trusted Annatar?"  
There was a unanimous shiver amongst the Elves and many looked up to Elrohir, frowning at him.  
"You compare Saruman to him?"  
"No, I'm just saying unwavering trust is not always wise."  
"Saruman has done nothing wrong, Sauron did, and you would be wise not to compare the two."  
Elrohir moodily went back to his supper, as his brother got up to assist with the watch.

"Why do you fear Saruman?" I asked.  
Elrohir shrugged, "I know not, I have never found his company…I never feel at ease with him." He finished.  
"He is an Ithron, powerful beyond all, even among his own company." Dòmhnall said.  
"How do you know that?" I asked.  
"I actually find the history books in Lord Elrond's library interesting." he teased, but then looked back to Elrohir, "Perhaps you are both fearful and respectful of the talents he possesses."  
Elrohir's brow creased in concentration, then he shook his head.  
"I am naturally in awe of the power he has, but it is not just that, it is something within his nature I dislike." He gave a quick smile, "I suspect I am being foolish, it is just childish fears from when I was younger and was looking up at this white cloaked column of a wizard."  
He finished his dinner and then went inside his tent, but the strangeness of his words unnerved me. Of either brothers Elladan was always the more cautious, probably taking after his father a little more than Elrohir. Although they were very close, with similar temperaments and humour, I believe Elrohir's smile often came a fraction faster than Elladan's. So why did fear cloud his eyes? I bid my brother goodnight and then hastened to my tent, pulling out my reading cards from the pocket of my bag I safeguarded them in. I sat crossed-legged on my bed and shuffled my way through them,

_"Silver moonlight, and Sunlight of Gold,  
Light my way clearly and be bold,  
Show me the desires,  
And secrets untold,  
Mother and Melusine be with me and bless me,  
As the cards unfold.  
So I will it, so it shall be."_

My hand hovered over one of the hidden cards in the pack; I drew it out and turned it over. I nearly laughed, well that wasn't particularly helpful! The Hierophant, of course it would be him. The keeper and safe guarder of magick and spiritual knowledge, a chosen leader and guide. But he was by no means particularly troublesome, just a man who remained steadfast in his opinions and the authority that he maintained. But then my mother's voice crept into my mind as I put the card back into the pack, a lost memory of her showing me the cards and teaching their meanings to me:  
_'The Hierophant can be a teacher and wise man, but he also holds ground over forbidden knowledge. He can guard his secrets well.'  
_He is an Ithron that would be why, he would hardly wish for mortals or even the elves to know all his secrets and everyone guards their own secrets, I reasoned. But my mother's voice had shaken me a little and perhaps it was that idea of hidden knowledge that scared Elrohir.

I put my cards away when I heard Dòmhnall's footsteps walking towards our tent, normally I spoke with my brother about what the cards revealed, but I had no desire to do that tonight. I climbed into my bed and closed my eyes. I heard him shuffling around the tent, kicking off his boots and climbing into his own camp bed. When I finally heard his quiet snores I opened my eyes again, wasting away the hours of sleep I could have had by thinking, but eventually the day's travelling proved too much for me and fell asleep. Most of the nights spent on our journey had proved dreamless thus far and I was grateful for that. My dreams had often been puzzling and confusing to me.

* * *

This night I dreamt though, I dreamt of a beautiful city, seemingly made of white marble. It almost looked as if it had grown from the mountainside it clung to, rather than having been built. I walked around the city, gazing at the fine cloths held in the market stalls, the sweet smells of perfumes and a dozen spices I knew not. It struck me that this city was quiet and cold, but that did not worry me at all. Perhaps they are all asleep, I thought, though the thought seemed strange to me. It was a large place and took forever reaching one circle from the one below, but I enjoyed the walk, the cool air blowing over the walls and ramparts as I took my journey upwards.

Finally I ascended the stairs to the last circle, as I took in the beautiful palace and long stretch of lawn. It struck me that at the end of that lawn should have stood a tree, I knew not why there should and I was certainly not intending to garden here. But as I turned to look back up at the great marble Hall, some strange moment of fear made me feel like ice had poured through my blood. I turned to look back at the grass, seeing a dark mass at the end, where the tree should have stood. I frowned, the tree should not be dark. I ran towards it, until I was close enough to realise a man was lying there. I stopped, not wishing to go any closer, but knowing I had to. I eventually neared him and almost shouted out in surprise, why did Thorongil lie here? I ran to his side and tried to shake him awake.  
'He shall not stir; the Kings of Gondor shall stir no more."  
I looked up; it was the man who had been in my other dream, the one in the boat. I got up, seeing the white tree on his tunic again. I pointed to it.  
"Where is that?" I asked.  
"The tree?"  
"Yes."  
"You were not here, so they cut it down."  
"Why?" I said, shocked, though not knowing why I was shocked.  
"You were not here." he said again, as though this explained all. I sat next to sleeping form of Thorongil, put my head in my hands.  
"I wish I could understand, I wish I could know everything."  
It frightened me that he said nothing and so I looked up; I jerked away from Thorongil, seeing the place suddenly littered with bodies and I knew these forms were not sleeping.

* * *

"Sister, sister, hush…"  
I opened my eyes. Dòmhnall and Elrohir were standing over my bed, both looked worried and Dòmhnall pulled me into a tight embrace.  
"You were dreaming…" Dòmhnall said.  
"A little more than that," smiled Elrohir, "You have woken many of the guard; they believed you were being attacked. I had to stop my brother from running into your tent fully armoured."  
"What happened?" I asked.  
"It was just a dream and you were shouting out in your sleep."  
"Oh?"  
"I could not make out all of your words, but you were muttering something about a city and a sleeping king." Dòmhnall smiled, "Were you going to have to kiss him like our mother's tale of Briar Rose?"  
I scowled at Dòmhnall and straightened out my mess of bedclothes.  
"I should have no desire to kiss this sleeping king, it was Thorongil."  
I irritably plumped my pillow into a more comfortable mass and lay back down on it. My brother looked at me bemused.  
"Thorongil was king?"  
"Don't ask me how or why, he just was. It was just a dream Dòmhnall."  
But as I said this I caught Elrohir's eye, he looked frightened, disturbed even more than Dòmhnall was; who was now acting as though this was not something to be concerned with.  
"Elrohir I am alright, please will you apologise on my behalf to your men and your brother."  
He nodded, but still said nothing.  
"What is wrong?" I asked.  
"Nothing, it just sounds like a strange dream."  
I nodded, "Yes, the ending was horrible, everyone was dead."  
"You did not mention that." said my brother from his bed, I shrugged.  
"It was just a dream," I yawned, "There is nothing more to…"

Suddenly something in my brain clicked into place. The tree, the tree should have been white. Like the white tree on the unknown man's chest and the tree I had seen on the front cover of Lord Elrond's book of Gondor. That was Gondor, a part of Gondor. Why did I dream of Gondor? How could I when I had never seen that country?  
"What is it?" asked Elrohir.  
I would have told him too, as well as my brother, I liked and trusted them both, but something told me not to. This was a dream to speak about with the Lady Galadriel, not with a man and an elf, who would not really understand it.  
"Nothing, just remembering the worse parts of it. We should all sleep." I said.  
Elrohir bid us both goodnight and then left the tent, my brother rolled back over and fell swiftly asleep. But I stayed awake, musing through the dream.

_'What does a sleeping man mean…? And why did I not come to aid them…? To aid them with what…? Why did it matter whether a tree was cut down or not? Why did it matter if a tree was white? Gondor…Gondor…My father hailed from Anfalas, my mother from Belfalas and they met in Minas Tirith…Minas Tirith, that is the capital of Gondor. Was that Minas Tirith? How could I know of Minas Tirith if I have never seen it? Those pictures I have seen and descriptions I have read are not in any way akin to seeing a place in the flesh…so how could I dream of it…? Why was the man from the river there? He wore their uniform, that much I can guess, but only soldiers wear a uniform like that surely? So he is a soldier…'_

I rolled over to my side, angry and frustrated as thoughts buzzed around my head like bees in a hive. No matter how I reasoned it out or thought about it I kept coming to questions I did not know the answers to. I buried my head in my pillow. At this point I would have happily punched the soldier that kept reappearing in my dreams. Or myself. If I ever saw that soldier again I would insist on him telling me his name at least, I just hoped that in my dreaming I would think of doing that, rather than waking afterwards and having no satisfactory answers. A name could be at least one of them.

* * *

Sorry for the slight delay, I've been busy writing chapter eight and helping with a creative writing group project (so much work). For some weird reason I loved writing the dream in this part. I've no idea why, but there you go, dream writing is fun.

Sindarin translation (with many thanks to Certh):  
No gelin i vin lîn, adh aphado len i chwest = May thy paths be green and the breeze on thy back  
Novaer, hiril nîn = Farewell, my Lady  
Na lû n'i a-goveninc = Until next we meet

Certh - I am rolling indeed! But this just happens to be one of those rare stories of mine where I don't get stuck in a rut and my muse is actually full of good ideas.  
*New notes: Apologies for the commas and the false Sindarin getting in, next time I shall be less trusting of any websites I've found. Lesson learnt!  
Sorry to Elladan/Elladen! Either I've done this out of sheer absent mindedness or my computer has, because it did the same to poor Eowyn and changed it to Ewoyn, for some bizarre reason.  
I realise the route is a little obscure, but there is reason behind my madness! :) Elrond has planned this route and though he knows of Elrohir's fears, he does believe they are unfounded. The characters in the previous chapter are pivotal to her life/fate, so Elrond has done some sneaky backstage work. That's the only hint I'm now going to drop. But I think you are right, in that it needs more explanation, so in the next chapter I may have Arwen talking to her father about the route or Elladan and Elrohir arguing about it.

Guests - This is a general thank you to you all, as I don't know all your names :( But I have been receiving all your kind words in my emails and I'm sure my muse will be happy, even though she keeps me awake very early in the morning!

Also, I miss Astraea Concord, where ever you are! Your comments are greatly appreciated too.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

We were drawing close to the land of Isengard and I wondered whether Elrohir was right about his unwarranted fears. Something seemed to stir the air, a malice. I drew my cloak tighter around my shoulders. If the Elves did not feel it the horses certainly did, several of them shifted nervously and tossed their heads.  
"Hush, hush. Don't worry, Leberil." I murmured to my horse, as she turned her head away from the land. Elladan rode up and took my reins in his hand, forcing Leberil to move ahead.  
Elrohir looked at his brother, who gave a reluctant sigh.  
"We shall only stop a short while at Othanc, if that is your wish." said Elladan, "We shall rest the horses and gather supplies, then continue our journey."  
Elrohir nodded and looked gratefully to his brother, but Elladan kept his gaze ahead and moved onwards, the rest of the guards following him. As Elrohir rode next to my brother and they both quietly spoke, I wondered if we were to meet the Hierophant that Elrohir so feared.

Elladen suddenly stopped, his eyes caught somewhere in the distance.  
"What is it?" I asked.  
"Orcs."  
He signalled to the guards to follow him up along the path, over the crest of a hill and into the woodlands there. All at once I smelt that burning flesh and my father's face flashed in front of my eyes. I gripped on tightly to my reins.  
Elrohir rode up beside his brother, "What are they doing here? Why has Saruman not destroyed their presence?"  
Elladen rolled his eyes, "Saruman cannot be everywhere and see to everything, they are no match for us, but I would avoid a battle if I can."  
"If they are no match for us, then we should destroy them." I said, my eyes burning with tears and passion.  
I would not hear of another village harmed or destroyed thus, of people's lives destroyed. Both brothers turned to look at me.  
"If we target them with arrows firstly and surprise them…" I said.  
"Then have them race towards us? I appreciate your skill with a sword and bow, Melusida, but…" Elladan began.  
"You still see me as a woman, frail and always needing defence."  
"Nay, Melusida, we do not." said Elrohir, kindly. "But it is wise to avoid a battle and save our strength, we may meet with many more orcs as we journey into Rohan."  
I pulled my reins away from Elladan, "Perhaps that is how the orcs came so far and attacked my home, because no one was willing to enter a battle with them."

Dòmhnall rode up to my side on seeing me distressed.  
"What is it?" he asked.  
"There are a small group of orcs ahead; Melusida wishes to have them killed because…" said Elladan.  
"Because of what happened to our village and father." Dòmhnall finished for him, he looked at me with sorrow in his eyes.  
"I understand your desires Melusida, I feel much the same, but we cannot be distracted from our journey especially if the guards are injured."  
"We all do…You remember our mother was captured and tormented by orcs." said Elladan, his eyes growing cold at the memory in his mind.  
I bit my lip and looked down at Leberil's brown mane, twisting my fingers in the soft, brown length.  
"I am sorry." I said.

I had once asked what had happened to their mother, Arwen had grown very quiet and pale and Elladan had stalked out of the room, only Elrohir had spoken to me about what had happened. But he spoke quickly and then changed the subject when done.  
"It is alright, our mother is safe and content now. But we should not use the deaths of others as a source of comfort for our own." said Elrohir and although he gave me a quick smile, he gently clasped his brother's shoulder.

We continued on our way till we saw the band of orcs running across the fields. Elladan made us all remain still, not wishing the orcs to catch any sight of movement or shadow. He came to my side and lay his hand on my back, at first I merely thought it was to keep me steady, but then I realised his hand was resting on top of my bow to stop me reaching back for it. I glanced up at him, but he did not catch my eye, keeping his eyes trained on the orcs. As they grew distant he beckoned for us to follow him. I clicked my tongue and Leberil obediently walked forward.

They kept a good lookout on after that, watching the path behind us, in case the orcs reappeared again. We had been travelling for maybe an hour, when Elladan held me back, staring ahead once more. I squinted my eyes, in the distance a lone horse galloped towards us; I could not make out the rider, just the long, white cloak he wore. I looked back to Elrohir, who rode to the front, then quickly placed his horse between mine and the oncoming rider. Elladan was too busy looking ahead to notice this. The man straightened up on his horse and slowed down a little. He was a tall man, that cloak of his making him appear even larger. As he neared us, I could see his long, white beard and cold, piercing eyes. He carried a long, wooden staff.

"Hail to you both, Elladan and Elrohir." he called.  
"Hail," replied Elladan. "We are glad to meet with you, Saruman."  
I looked up towards Elrohir who gave me a tight smile and nodded.  
"Indeed, my friends. The same to you. Your father told me of your journey," I saw him bend to look pass Elrohir, "You bear mortals amongst you…?"  
Somehow the way he spoke of my brother and I like that sent a shiver down my neck, I felt my skin prickle.  
"Aye, this is Dòmhnall, son of Hanel, and his sister, Melusida."  
Dòmhnall respectfully bows his head, but Saruman continues to look at me, peering around Elrohir with his sharp eyes.  
"I heard tell of your father, my sorrows for you both."  
For some reason I sense Elrohir's own fear and my own distaste for this wizard.  
"It was strange that orcs had wandered so far." I replied, my tone bitter to my own mouth.  
"Strange, but not always preventable." he said, his eyes could have made my skin crack and my blood freeze.  
"Well there's a pack of them, some way behind us. If you should follow the forest you are bound to come across them."  
Dòmhnall is staring at me now, as are most of the elves, but there is something about this man…he frightens me.  
"Sir, I beg you not to take insult, my sister's temper runs fraught after our father's death…"  
"Dòmhnall, I would not have you speak for me. I assume that as you are the great wizard Lord Elrond has spoken of, these orcs will be a mere trifle to deal with."

I do not know where I gain the strength or willingness to say these things, but I do wish to depart from his company.  
"And I will ensure they are dealt with, but if you should follow me back to Orthanc I can provide you with some comforts and rest. I know that even Elves have difficulty in refusing a hot meal."  
He smirks and some of the elves smile in amusement, but I can see Elrohir's face grow pale.  
"Surely, Elladan we do not have time? We are rested enough and if we make our way to…" Elrohir begins.  
"You do not realise, sir. Lord Elrond sent me a message beforehand, I know something of your quest and he believes it would be wise to gain the opinion of myself, the Lady Galadriel and Gandalf." his eyes draw back to my own, "Considering I know something of you, my lady, I do not think it wise to treat me with so harsh a tongue."

I feel my whole being and heart fill with an overwhelming sense of dread, why does Lord Elrond do this to us? Why did he not make mention of this to us? Did he know Elrohir and I would refuse? I look back to the _Hierophant _before us and I know my mother's warning was right; this man guards too many secrets. It would be ill wise to make myself appear suspicious of him or to be seen battling with him, before I knew of what made me feel so fearful. I rode Leberil a little away from Elrohir and give an apologetic smile to Saruman.  
"Forgive me, I did not mean to be so angered. Seeing orcs makes my blood boil and not just in desire to avenge my father, for I fear the injuries and harm they can cause to others. I have a great desire to see no one harmed and hurt like my brother and I."  
Saruman nods, "It is only natural, my lady. There is no harm done and I understand your wish to journey on to Gondor, in order to gain forgiveness for your father…"  
My mouth opens with surprise and Saruman gives another mocking smile.  
"I am afraid Lord Elrond has not been discreet. Shall we continue our journey?"

He turns his horse around and the rest of the elves follow him, Elrohir gives me a knowing look, but says nothing as he follows Saruman. I spur my horse on to join him.  
"Did you not know of this?" I whispered.  
"Of course I did not, this whole journey must have been planned by father and Elladan, he knows I am unnerved by Saruman." Elrohir glances at me and swallows nervously, "He wants you for something…"  
"What?"  
"Saruman wants you for something; he would not look at any ordinary, mortal girl like that. He barely showed any heed towards your brother or even Elladan and I."  
"Perhaps it is because I argued with him."  
"Perhaps, but you gained the same feeling as I, did you not?" Elrohir says.  
I looked towards the white cloaked figure, now talking with Elladan. I nod.  
"It is as though something is not right within this land; the air and the earth are strange, as though a poison runs through them."

Saruman suddenly turns to look at me and a bright flash of light inside my mind nearly blinds me. The heat and agony within that light enrage my senses and it matters not if I close or open my eyes. I hurt, my whole body burns. I am not aware of anything anymore, just the pain in my head, the roaring sound of blood in my ears. Suddenly the light flashes away and I now see a woodland glade, the moon overhead, a man before me. His mouth cracks open into a cold, merciless laugh and his eyes burn red, I scream. Then the scene vanishes and my mind goes blank.

I can feel my chest heaving, the ragged breaths torn from my lungs, tears cooling my eyes. It comes to my awareness gradually that I can hear worried voices and I am lying on the ground, though I am unsure whether I fell or have been placed here. I slowly open my eyes, the twins both kneel at my side, with Dòmhnall cradling me. When he sees my eyes are open, he embraces me fiercely.  
"Oh Valar, you had me worried then."  
"Sorry," I mutter and he gives a shaky laugh. When he pulls away I see Saruman, his face concerned.  
"A nasty shock to us all," he smiles and I shiver.  
Elladan pulls my cloak tighter around me.  
"When we saw you fall from your horse and heard your scream…"  
"I screamed?" I asked.  
Elrohir nods, "An awful scream, as though you were…" he frowns; he cannot put it into words.  
I remember my scream…a scream of Death, I think. I dig my arms tightly into the folds of my cloak; I have no desire to follow Saruman. The vision had something to do with him, I know it did.  
"I think we should turn back." I say.  
There are several exclamations of 'What?' from the guardsmen, though they are normally uncomplaining.  
"Why do you wish us to turn back?" asks Elladan.  
"I had a vision." I whisper to them.

Elladan looks at me doubtfully, but Dòmhnall and Elrohir lean closer towards me. I can see Saruman stiffen slightly.  
"We do ourselves no good in going this way. Elrohir is right, no matter what your father says…I fear if we take this path then none of us will return."  
Elladan frowns, "Father tells me we must speak to Saruman–"  
"Father is not always right." snaps Elrohir, "Think upon Arwen and Thorongil…"  
Elladan glares at his brother, who calmly places a hand on Elladan's shoulder.  
"I do not wish to dispute with you, but I am a member of this company as much as you are."  
"Come at least to Orthanc, rest there and then return." says Saruman.  
"No, we should go now." I said.  
Elladan glanced up at the wizard and then back to me, torn between his father's command and my fears.  
"You shall be quite safe with me." Saruman assured us.  
"It is not that I doubt that, but I know…I know something awful will happen if we continue this journey."  
"If you have need to speak with my father, why not come with us?" suggested Elladan to Saruman, who himself looked undecided. "I am sure my brother and I will not prove fitting messengers to our father's mind."  
"How about I take Melusida, her brother and a few of the guards through the High Pass and you can accompany Saruman onto Imladris?" said Elrohir.  
"I believe your father wished for me to question the young lady." said Saruman, he hid his anger well, but I knew it existed behind those calm, controlled words.  
"You can question her on the journey." Elrohir replied, blithely.

I would have desired Saruman not to come with us at all, but it was better than riding towards his home.  
"There is little point in doing so." Saruman snapped.  
I quickly looked up to him, why had he so swiftly changed his mind?  
"Then why did my father deem it wise to divert our journey and come to you, rather than go through the High Pass?" Elladan asked.  
"I hardly know your father's reasoning." he said, "The messenger told me he wished to engage the matter of Sauron with you and Elrohir on his behalf. That is what I agreed to, not being so removed from Othanc that…"  
"You are quite far here," Elladan pointed out, "Why not journey with us the rest of the way and meet my father in Imladris."  
"I am afraid I have other business to attend to, perhaps I shall meet with your father another time." He mounted his horse, scowled furiously at me and rode off. I frowned, unsure what to make of this.

"Thanks be to Valar," Elrohir muttered.  
"He is a proud man, Elrohir." Elladan said.  
Elrohir snorted with contempt. "I fear the next father hears of him he will no longer be loyal to us." he looked down at me.  
"Was that not what you saw? His betrayal of us."  
I shook my head, "No, but I knew if we followed him it would not have been wise or safe. I fear Hamnet would not have seen us again." I said to Dòmhnall.  
"What did you see?" asked Elladan.  
"Nothing much. When Saruman looked at me there was a huge flash of white light in my mind, I could not see or hear anything, everything just hurt…It burned me and it made no difference whether I had my eyes opened or closed, it was still there."  
Elladan looked towards Elrohir, a mirror image of worry.  
"We shall go to the Lady Galadriel instantly, she will understand better than we. Who knows why father ordered us to take this damnable path." Elladan says.

Elrohir helped me up, Dòmhnall brought his horse over and helped me into the saddle.  
"Why did father wish us so badly to take this route?" Elrohir asked Elladan, "You must know, he spoke to you of it."  
"He knew your fear of Saruman and believed it unfounded, which is why he did not speak to you about it. I must confess to feeling unease with Saruman, though I do not know why. Father wishes to have The White Council's view on _the_ matter entirely." I saw his eyes glance up towards me.  
"What matter?" I asked.  
Elladan climbed onto his own horse, "He did not say, he said you would know."  
I felt Dòmhnall sit up straighter in the saddle.  
"This was not safe, he must have known my sister would be in danger."  
"He did not know that Elrohir's fear of Saruman would be proven right…or at least, some danger ahead prevents this journey."  
"At least we are near the border," I said, hoping to forgive myself to Elladan and his men. Elrohir smiled at me, but Elladan rode forward on his horse.  
"We must watch for those orcs again." he seemed both relieved and angered, as though he was thankful for leaving that overwhelming sense of death in the land, but annoyed at having to travel further. I cared not; I rested comfortably against my brother and wept tears of relief that I would not see those terrifying, deathly eyes. Those eyes of flame and hatred.

* * *

Think there was something of a delay on this one. But there will definitely be a delay on posting of the next chapter, I'm afraid. Sorry, I'm completing my Creative Writing Project; spent four hours setting up a website today and it's still not finished, and I also have to submit a report on everything I did by tomorrow. Urgh. Plus drama rehearsals tonight, going out on Friday, shopping on Saturday and I have an English Literature essay for Monday (at least it's Jane Eyre), but yeah, I am REALLY busy with Uni stuff/social life at the mo. So there could be a potential lull of around four, maybe five days (I know, I know. I am sorry).

Once more thanks to everyone with your reviews, they warm my little heart :D and Certh you are now my trusty adviser when it comes to Sindarin. Thanks for all your help.  
I'm unsure about this chapter, my muse is just going 'Let's go in this plot direction!' and I'm just like 'Ok, why not? What could possibly go wrong?' :D


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

It is strange though. We journey on and yet I still feel that horror in my heart, the eyes will never leave me. Even when I sleep and wake up, whimpering and shaking in my bed, convincing myself that it was all a bad dream and we have all escaped a terrifying fate, I cannot rest. I cannot be at ease; it is though I travel through the forest again, when the orcs attacked my home. Every twig snapped or a sudden rustle of feathers as a bird flies off makes me nervous. At one point when I jump Elladan rides over.  
"You're making Leberil nervous, Melusida."  
"Sorry." I say, he frowns.  
"We are far from Isengard now, why are you still frightened?"  
"The vision," I mutter, "I think it was more than just a warning to not go further in Isengard, there was something else, some greater evil."  
I have not told them about the man or the eyes; every time I try I find their faces too innocent. How can you tell someone so innocent of such evil? If I tell them it shall leave a mark upon them, an undetectable, evil mark. I dare not tell them. I will be the one who lets that hatred and anger burn me.

That night I have the same dream, but I decide to get up and take a small walk around our encampment, I shall not sleep until I am rid of those hateful eyes. I pull on my cloak and quietly open the flap of our tent. One of the guards, sitting by the fire, gives me a small nod.  
"I could take the watch." I offer. He smiles, but shakes his head.  
So I continue walking in a circle around the camp. Until I draw close to Elrohir's tent and hear quiet, hurried voices. I tiptoe over to his tent and lean in close.  
"I still do not understand why father sent us such a way?" Elrohir hisses.  
"Nor do I, he just insisted on it. Believe me I tried to argue; it is sheer danger taking her so far near…"  
"Does he not trust the Lady Galadriel?"  
"Why would he not trust the Lady Galadriel?" Elladan replies.  
"I know not." Elrohir says, keeping his voice in check. "If there was anything concerning dreams, prophecies or myths she would be the first person I would go to."  
"I cannot understand. If this so concerns Melusida why is she kept in the dark too? I fear she knows less than we do!"  
"Arwen told me Melusida knew of the legend, knew some of the truth behind it, but very little." says Elrohir.  
"Even the legend has descended into myth; I know Hamnet does not really believe in it."  
"He is wrong in thinking it a story to put children to bed."  
"It is hardly that in any sense."  
"Should we tell her the truth?" asked Elrohir.  
"Father has not said…"  
"Father has not said many things to her."  
"It is the Lady Galadriel who should decide when." said Elladan.  
"They speak of her own fate, how she is meant to accomplish anything without being told a shred of truth? It is madness."  
"I believe the same, but I think the Lady Galadriel would explain this better than we would and suppose Melusida has questions we can provide no answer to? The Lady Galadriel would tell her all she needed to know."  
"I just wish I knew what father intended…"

Their voices suddenly stopped and I crept quickly away from the tent, sneaking back into my own. I hastened over to my bed and closed my eyes. I heard Elrohir speak to the guard outside, who murmured something in reply. But that same dawning of unknowing and being in the midst of something greater still haunted me. Why did everyone know so much of me and yet I knew less of myself? I now longed to seek out the Lady Galadriel and demand answers to all of my questions, I was determined I would not be denied by her. I would know the truth and once we left that place I would know of everything that I must do. With that determination came a glowing sense of anger; Lord Elrond, my father, my mother, the Lady Arwen, Elrohir and Elladan, even Saruman knew more of my past and future than I did! Why was I to be always kept in the dark? What if I died never really knowing the answers to some of the simplest questions of my life?

We came to the High Pass and Elladan decided he would return home with some of the guards, to tell his father of what had occurred. I looked to him.  
"Could you tell him I grow tired of always being lied to?" I asked.  
Elladan gave me a sympathetic look, "Sometimes these things are done for our own good, even if we do not understand them."  
"Good or no, it is an evil that a person is lied to. You have all your history and I do not, not even that of my own parents', it is not fully complete."  
"Go to the Lady Galadriel, I feel she will understand your pain better than perhaps our father."  
I sighed and looked down, Elladan embraced me. I was surprised at his gesture, but blessed by his kindness and acceptance all the same.  
"You are our youngest sister now, do not be angry that we have safeguarded you thus."  
"Forgive me, but it still feels like more of an imprisonment, than any safeguarding."  
He gave a grin, "Forgiven. I hope to see you both again." he smiled at Dòmhnall.  
"You guard her well." Elladan said, to both my brother and his. He bade them both goodbye and then mounted his own horse.  
"Ask Melusine to bless me on my journey and you on yours."

The other elves gave a laugh, but I found myself nodding with all seriousness. He would return home, I would not have it any other way. As he began the journey home with some of his guardsmen I thought of my brother Hamnet and his return to Rivendell. I felt he would return soon. I smiled, something I had not done for a while, and waved off Elladan. I was looking forward to seeing my older brother. Then I remembered what Lord Elrond would tell him before he galloped off to his old home, that his father was dead and brother and sister had journeyed on to the Lady Galadriel. As we finished our lunch and I brought Leberil from her tether, I felt that aged feeling of grief growing up from my heart. My father was not always a patient or warm man, but he did love us, that much I knew…even if rebellion had stirred his blood against Lord Denethor. I climbed onto Leberil and clicked my tongue.

* * *

Although the journey was not so long as the first, I felt my impatience make the journey feel like years had passed, not weeks. At first I had hated being so warm and travelling on a horse for days on end, but was now glad we travelled in summer, when we passed through the mountains still feeling their icy chill and the cold winds that blew from their peaks. We kept to some of the lower paths, only going onto higher ones when needed. Little streams trickled down the warm earth and wild flowers grew through the melting snow. When I saw these I sometimes forgot the pain and hatred that had ravaged my soul, but when the night came upon us I could never forget. Although those angered eyes had disappeared what frightened me now was a dawning realisation, the anger I had felt in those eyes had made my own anger burn in fury. I was frightened of being a girl of the rivers and knowing that I felt such anger, hatred and fear like fire. I was frightened of being burnt by it.

As we passed through the mountains, down by the river and through the forests I could a sense a change within the land. I pulled up Leberil when I felt it, mostly out of fear that it would be the same feeling I had in Isengard. But it felt as though my senses had suddenly quickened and I could see everything in greater detail. Leberil moved forward, I knew this place was strange and wild, but it was safe, it was guarded and scared. The forests grew shady overhead, their branches obscuring the ground with their thick, summer leaves. I saw several of the elves look nervously about them, keeping their arrows notched in their bows. I frowned, what could have made them so cautious. I looked over to my brother, he too looked anxious of this place.  
"Dismount, we walk from here." said Elrohir to me. I obediently climbed down and walked by Elrohir's side.  
"Why does everyone seem so…nervous here?" I asked, not really sure how to describe the eerie feeling of the wood, that I found strangely akin to my own nature.  
"The Lady Galadriel holds secrets most know nothing of, her forests do the same." Elrohir guided Leberil for me, so I strode off a little, carefully making as little noise as possible.

As a breeze tossed the leaves of the trees, it was as though something whispered to me. I stopped and then continued walking trying to hear that sound again.  
"Melusida…" I whipped my head round to look at the elves, to see who had whispered my name, but they all kept to the path. Dòmhnall looked at me and gave a reassuring smile.  
"Melusida…Melusida…" I looked back round and was determined to follow the voice to the carrier. I knew I was heading a little way off from the group, but I was too curious and entranced by it. The voice sounded calming and controlled, but it had the same eerie feeling as the wood. I nearly tripped when a pair of cool, blue eyes appeared inside my mind and I knew the voice belonged to the person who had those eyes.  
"You are welcome to my forest, maiden of rivers. I know the answers that you seek, yet you do not know all the questions of which to ask. You will learn of the times before us, those that have passed and those that are yet to come."  
"Melusida!" my brother called to me.  
It took me a moment to see the forest floor, the tall trunks of trees, the stream I had wandered to. Several of the elves hushed my brother.  
"It is not wise to wander from the group, even in these safe parts." Elrohir said.  
I quickly ran to join them.

"You are welcome here, Elrohir." A male elf with fair hair stepped out behind a tree, as he walked towards us I saw several fair haired elves with bows, keeping them trained on my brother and I.  
"I am glad we are met, Haldir. But you do not welcome our friends?" asked Elrohir, nodding his head towards the Elf's guards.  
"Merely to prevent unnecessary conflict."  
I frowned, wondering what 'unnecessary conflict' was.  
"These are my father's wards, Dòmhnall, son of Hanel, and his sister, Melusida." Elrohir pointed at my brother and I, "This is Haldir, marchwarden of Lothlórien."  
The Elf had first looked towards my brother, but then his cold, blue eyes snapped to mine. I looked away; my brother and I bowed respectfully.  
"The Lady Galadriel has been waiting for you for some time."  
I looked up, "Was that the…?"  
"Was that the what?" Haldir asked.  
"Nothing." I said hastily, I did not wish to speak about the voice I had heard.

For some strange reason I did not wish to speak about the things I had heard and seen to any male, even if they were Elf or my brothers. It had always been the women who had understood and sympathised better than any man, Arwen, my mother and Melusine. Haldir looked confused and muttered something in Sindarin to Elrohir, it was quiet, but I did catch 'strange girl'. Several of the elves had the kindness to look affronted for me. Elrohir gave a grin.  
"I would not suggest doing that Haldir, Melusida and Dòmhnall can speak Sindarin fluently."  
"My apologies." Haldir said, "I did not mean offense."  
"Accepted," I replied, "I am rather strange, but we should not keep the Lady Galadriel waiting if you say she has been wishing to see us all."  
Elrohir smiled at me as Haldir turned his back and he guided us further into the woods.

I could scarce believe the beauty of this place, the over twining trees reaching upwards towards golden light. The purity of the air, almost as though it had been wrought from silver. As we made our way through enclosed bridges and walkways I knew that some deeper, older sense of magick was here, I could feel it pricking at my fingers, making my head feel dizzy. I looked over at Dòmhnall, he still had that strange look of fear and wonder upon his face, but he gave a quick smile and squeezed my hand tightly in his own. We finally reached a circular balcony of smooth stone, ahead shone a light that was nearly too bright to look at. I narrowed my eyes when I saw the light seemingly glide towards us, until either from or out of that light came a man and lady. They were both very tall, with long, pale golden hair. The Lady reminded me of my mother's reading card, The High Priestess, with her white gown and long hair. Elrohir bowed before them and the male elf gave a small smile, when placing his hand on Elrohir's head for his blessing.

"You are welcome here, my grandchild. Though I am saddened not to see your brother." The male elf said.  
"He was needed home, to pass on a message to our father."  
The female elf smiled a little, but then her eyes slid to mine as Elrohir and his grandfather continued to speak. She gave me a knowing look.  
"You are welcomed here, Melusida of Gondor." I blinked, her lips had not moved, but the same voice that had been in the forest now returned and I knew it was her's.  
"These are my father's wards, Melusida and Dòmhnall." Elrohir said, finally pulling me away from the Elven lady's eyes. He gestured towards the Elf lord and lady, "This is the Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel, father and mother to my mother."  
My brother and I respectfully bowed.  
"You are both welcome here, I hope we can provide the answers for whatever you seek." said Lord Celeborn. I gazed up at him, wandering if he was suggesting something, but the Lady Galadriel gave an amused smile and then gestured for us to follow them while the guardsmen rested.

"Your father seems to have a knack at finding wards." Lord Celeborn said to Elrohir.  
"We are very grateful for his kindness to us all." said Dòmhnall, Lord Celeborn nodded.  
"Your father is a kind man," said the Lady Galadriel, "Some would say too kind."  
I opened my mouth to argue, but Elrohir conceded her point.  
"In some ways he trusts to easily."  
"He trusts a powerful wizard, yet he does not trust me?" I said.  
I wish I had kept my mouth closed, for all of them turned to look upon me, I blushed when I saw Lord Celeborn's glare.  
"I am sorry, I did not mean…"  
"What did you mean then?" asked Lady Galadriel. She came nearer towards me, her eyes remaining locked with my own. I gazed up at her, opening and closing my mouth.  
"My sister is weary from travelling; it would do her good to rest." Dòmhnall said.  
I glared at him for speaking for me again, but the Lady Galadriel bowed her head in assent and placed a firm hand on my back.  
"I will have my maids prepare you a bath and then a bed to rest."

She pushed me away from the group and when we had reached one of the fine rooms hold aloft in the strong branches, she turned to look at me.  
"There are times when a woman must hold her tongue." she said.  
"You do not hold yours."  
She smiled at that and as her eyes returned to mine, I saw something shift within their blue depths. I could not make out what it was though.  
"Why are you here?" she asked.  
"To seek answers."  
"To what?"  
"My questions."  
"And do you know what they all are?"  
"Well presumably you do, for you told me I did not know them all." I said.  
She leaned back a little and smiled.  
"What would you like to ask me?" she said.  
"About my mother and father's history, the truth of our ancestry, what my future holds."  
"What if I cannot answer them to your satisfaction?"  
I glared at her, "I have been lied to for too long."  
"What if I wish to have something in return?" she said.  
I frowned, "What can I possibly give to the Lady of Lothlórien, that she does not already have?"  
She gave another cool smile, "A wise piece of flattery, you would do well at the court of Minas Tirith. But in truth I do want something from you."  
"What is that?" I asked.  
"Your time, your patience and the skills you already have."  
"I do not understand."  
"If I provide the answers to your questions, then you in turn will be taught my ways, I shall guide you in making your gifts clearer and better."  
"My foresight?" I asked, amazed that she would even offer to teach me. She nodded.  
"And other things besides, what you already know and what your mother taught you, I shall refine. You have dreams, do you not? Dreams you do not understand?"  
"Yes." I whispered in awe.  
"Dreams you fear no one understands, least of all man in his steadfast and slow changing ways."  
I nodded.  
"There are clothes in that chest and my maids will prepare your bath, if you will go through that door." She pointed through an archway covered in a silver silk curtain. It rippled in the breeze and I was put in mind of Lady Galadriel's hair. "We will discuss your dreams later."

I curtsied and then made me way through the archway into a bathing chamber, where the maids were already pouring hot water into a wooden bath, I saw them pluck some leaves from a young plant and place them in the bath. I walked towards the dark green plant and sniffed at the leaves, it did not really smell of anything, but as the leaves warmed to the water they released a delicate, sweet scent. They spoke to me very little and for all my seventeen years I felt a little frightened of these silent, beautiful women. They helped me undress and then brought me a bathing gown, bringing me over to the tub and helping me into it.

I was unused to having the constant presence of the maids, having bathed alone at home, so I became as skittish as the horses when one began to brush my hair and the other rubbed my arms with a bar of soap. They finally finished washing my hair and let me scrub at my legs and underarms in peace, before coming back into the room with warmed towels and anointing oils. They rubbed every inch of my skin with scented oils and then brushed and dried my hair, before anointing that with sweet oils. I still felt nervous, but the bath had eased the rawness of my nerves and I was more compliant when they brushed my hair this time.  
"It is strange to have one with such dark hair, as yours." said one of the maids.  
I nodded, marvelling at all their pale golden and fair hair, "What is your name?" I asked.  
"Celefindis."  
"Mine is…"  
"Melusida, everyone knows of your name. The Lady Galadriel spoke of you before you were born." Celefindis' pale eyes remained fixed on my hair and her voice had an air of finality about it, so I decided I would speak no further on anything, until I had seen the Lady Galadriel.

I walked back through the curtains towards the chest, opening it to reveal some of the most beautiful and well-crafted gowns I had ever seen. I let my hands run over the fine silks and velvets of the dresses, before opting for a light blue, near silver dress. I had rarely been interested in clothing, but it would have been foolish to deny the beauty of these gowns. The maids then dressed me, before pulling my hair back and pinning it so it framed my face. I studied my face intensely while they did so, dark blue eyes gazing back at me. My skin had never been very pale, but always retained a soft goldenness to it when I went out into the sun. As the rearranged my hair I felt as though I was no longer looking at my girlhood, I was facing a water goddess but looking down at her through the cold depths; I shook my head at my folly and Celefindis nearly stabbed my head with a pin.

As I gazed into the mirror, my eye caught sight of a flicking candle, I had the same white flash appear before my eyes as I did in Isengard. I tried to prevent myself from seeing anything, but I did not have enough strength to control it. Panic gripped my throat, but this time all I saw was Thorongil kneeling beside what looked like a child. It was too dark to really see anything, but I knew the child was in pain, he had been injured, a sword was gripped in his hand. Why had he been given a sword, why was a child out there in the darkness? As my mind brought me back to my chair and the mirror I saw there were three other small cloaked figures standing beside Thorongil. Four children? Why were there four children? Where were they?

Celefindis stood by my side, gently holding my shoulders. I must have slumped onto the table.  
"You should see the Lady Galadriel now." she said, her expression one of worry. I nodded and got up. I felt a little weak, but I did need to see her.

I walked from the room, back towards the main hall. When I entered the room I saw Elrohir was still speaking with Lord Celeborn, but my brother was not there and neither was the Lady Galadriel.  
"No wonder my father believes you have Elven blood in your veins." Elrohir smiled at me and gave me a wink.  
I smiled shyly, "Thank you, when will the Lady Galadriel be back?" I asked.  
"Not too long, we will dine together shortly." replied Lord Celeborn.  
I nodded, before looking at Elrohir, "I had another vision."  
"Oh?"  
"It was not as horrible as the one before, but it was certainly confusing. Thorongil was with an injured child and there were three others with him."  
"Four children?" Elrohir said, his own brow creasing into confusion. "Why would Thorongil be with four children?"  
"I know not." I said.  
"The dress fits you well." I turned to see Lady Galadriel gracefully walked down the steps towards me. "Celefindis tells me you had a vision." she did not look concerned as Elrohir and even Lord Celeborn did.  
"Yes, my lady. I saw Thorongil with four children, one of them was injured and holding a sword."  
"Are you certain it was children you saw? Not dwarves?" she said.  
"They did not have the build of dwarves; they were less sturdy and certainly smaller."  
"Do you know what it meant?" she asked, I looked up at her with surprise; I thought she had all the answers. She fixed me with her cold gaze again.  
"What did it mean?"

I thought back to what I had seen, the child lying on the ground, groaning in pain, Thorongil whispering something to him, the other children gathered around him…and someone drawing near them, to aid them.  
"Someone comes to aid them." I said hopefully.  
"Do you know who?"  
I had not believed I had said anything, but was just allowing my mind to drift. Perhaps it was because I had seen Thorongil and I remembered Dòmhnall had believed Arwen and Thorongil to be in love that the Lady Galadriel suddenly brought me out of my reverie with a question.  
"Arwen, daughter of my daughter?" the Lady Galadriel said.  
"What?" I asked.  
"You told me Arwen goes to aid them."  
I frowned, "That cannot be right."  
She smiled at me, "It was your vision."  
"But why would she aid them?"  
"Let us not worry about such things." The Lady Galadriel said, as my brother followed a manservant down the stairs towards us. I saw my brother give a double take when he saw me.  
"I nearly did not recognise you." he said, smiling, "You look like our mother."  
I nodded and Elrohir smiled, "It puts any doubts at rest that you do not have Elven blood in your veins."  
Dòmhnall nodded, "You and Arwen could be sisters."  
I smiled, but felt the Lady Galadriel stiffen at my side and her eyes draw away as though she was remembering something. Lord Celeborn offered her his arm and they lead us towards the dining hall.

* * *

See I'm nice, it's just been three days. So thank you all for your patience. Essay is going marvelously well, surprisingly! As is this story, I'm racing away with chapter 10 and will soon be approaching chapter 11. Thank you for everyone who's reviewing/following :) and I will try to post asap. Though I can't promise anything on Monday, as that's when my English lit essay is for, but after that it's all plain sailing...hopefully.

xxx


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

"Will you tell me of what you saw for me?" I asked.  
The Lady Galadriel and I were sitting amongst the trees, once more we found our company away from the men. She had spoken little to me since our first night, but as Elrohir prepared to leave, she had often called me to her presence. Ready to talk with me about the dreams I had, the answers I needed. She dismissed her ladies in waiting and maids.  
"You mean, of what I foretold when you were born?"  
I nodded eagerly.  
"I said your destiny was as much the same as Melusine's, that you would assist both the King of Gondor and the Steward of Gondor."  
"Is that all?" I asked, disappointed. It told me little of anything important, just everything of which I already knew. She delicately raised an eyebrow at my dissatisfaction. "Arwen told me much, of the fate of Melusine and how it was linked to mine. I know this."  
"Then you'll know that by learning and skill you will develop your talents, it is your Sight that will aid the king."  
"But who is the king? Why has he not decided to come back and claim his rightful inheritance?"  
"You do not know him? He is yet to be ready, he must wait for you."  
"Why would I know who the king is? Why he is not yet ready, he must be grown by now?" I said.  
She did not answer me, but gave me a mysterious smile, "That is one answer I can provide, but it shall be revealed to you in due course. Perhaps your dreams can reveal a little more."

I thought back to the dreams I had, "The most recent one was of Minas Tirith, I am certain it was Minas Tirith…"  
"Even though you have yet to see its walls?"  
"Yes. It was a white city, it looked as if it had grown from the mountainside and I walked up all seven layers. I admired all I saw, the buildings and the fine trading they had there. But it was quiet, no one was about. When I reached the seventh circle I found Thorongil, Captain of the Rangers, lying where the white tree should have been and another man there…"  
"Another man?" she asked.  
"Yes, I had seen him in a dream before."  
"Well finish this one and then tell me the other."  
"I went to awaken Thorongil and the man then said to me, 'He shall not stir; the Kings of Gondor shall stir no more.' I questioned the man, but he did not say what he meant by it."  
I frowned then, Thorongil was both in my dream and in my vision, but how could he be…  
"What do you think of?" her voice whispered in my mind.  
"You should know." I replied back, she gave me an amused smile.  
"Go on." she said.  
"Well…the man was wearing a tunic; it had a white tree on it, like the one that should have been there. I asked him what had happened to the tree and he said they had cut it down, because I was not there."  
"An odd reason to fell a tree…" she mused, a playful look upon her face.  
"I said I wished to understand everything. I put my head in my hands and when I looked back up…everyone was dead." I gave a shiver.  
She looked thoughtful for a few minutes and then looked at me.  
"What do you make of it?"  
"I cannot understand why Thorongil was there." I said.  
"Should he not have been?"  
"Nay." I replied, at once. Then considered it, why had Thorongil been there, why had it not been someone closer to me? I lifted my gaze to the Lady Galadriel's.  
"Is Thorongil the king?"  
She lowered her head in a manner of assenting to me. I frowned, bemused by this new knowledge.  
"Thorongil is the king?" I said again.  
"Yes, do you not think he will make a fitting king?" she asked.  
"No…he does seem quite…he leads his men well."  
"So Thorongil is the king of Gondor."  
"You said you could not tell me that." I pointed out.  
"I did not; you came to that conclusion yourself. So what do you believe the tree meant?"  
"It is the line of Isildur; it was a warning to me if I remained where I was."  
She nodded again.

A maid brought us lunch and served us at the table, then quickly retreated.  
"Tell no one to disturb us," said Lady Galadriel, "Not even my husband or Melusida's brother."  
I bit into a pear, then finished my mouthful while the Lady Galadriel poured a pale wine into our goblets.  
"Can you tell me who the man is?" I asked.  
"The man?"  
"The man with the white tree of Gondor on his tunic."  
"I am given few details of his person. Tell me of the dream you had before."  
"I shall have to tell you the beginning." I said.  
"As is often the case with many stories." she replied, handing me some bread.  
"You know the story of my family's history?" I said.  
"The story of Melusine; aye, I know it well." She took a sip of her wine.  
"I was Melusine, I was in the river, waiting for the Steward to come and promise his love to me. I swam up and down the river, waiting for him, trying to see him emerging from the forest. But he never found me. Until I saw a boat and I pulled it ashore…"  
"And…?"  
"It was the man, he had the same tunic on, but he lay dead within the boat and he was impaled with arrows. He carried a round shield with him and a fine horn. I did not know who he was, but I wept for him."

She stayed still for a few moments, then began to cut up an apple on her plate.  
"I believe this is the other part of your fate."  
"What is?"  
"The man who you saw sounds akin to Boromir, son of Denethor."  
"Why was Melusine waiting for the son of the Steward?" I asked.  
"But you were not wholly Melusine; you were aware of being both Melusine and yourself."  
I steadily took another bite of the pear, unsure of what Lady Galadriel meant, but in some ways understanding it a little.  
"Why did I dream of him?" I asked. "Why was he dead if he was part of my fate?"  
"Sometimes, even those with the Sight do not know all." she said. "Tonight the moon will be at her fullest, I would have you practice your skills."  
I suddenly remembered those eyes, I had not told her of the eyes and I did not wish to see them again. Lady Galadriel looked up at me.  
"You fear something?"  
"Nay." I replied, but I knew the thought of those eyes had once more remerged and she could see it.  
"You will be safe, you will be with me, I shall guide you." She gently placed her hand on top of mine, but I could see those eyes had frightened her too, despite her assurances.  
She would not tell me anymore of Boromir or Thorongil, or my fate while we continued our lunch. She said she would not speak of anything more until we had practiced into the art of seeing, for it was an art that could be controlled and called upon at will, though mine could always remain a little ungoverned. She told me I should make my way down here and she would meet me.

We had walked down past the tall trees, bare feet pressing against the cool earth, barely making any sound. I did not speak to her, speech it seemed was unnecessary. I wore a dress robe over my nightgown but the wind still whipped past my legs. I shivered and Lady Galadriel turned to give me one of her strange smiles. We finally came down a staircase guarded by two Elven statues, but she pushed me onwards when I showed signs of slowing. We reached the circle of dark earth, holding nothing but a pale stone plinth with a silver basin on top. She motioned for me to stay by the basin, while she walked towards a stream, flowing between the roots of the trees. I watched her as she picked up a silver ewer and fill it with the water. As she approached the basin I stepped back a little.  
"Are you frightened?" she said in my mind.  
"Yes." I replied back.  
She calmly filled the basin with the water, her eyes never departing from mine. Once she had done she stepped back. I looked down at the silver reflection of the water.  
"Look." she said.  
"No."  
"I can promise you there will be no pain, you shall be protected."

I glanced down at the water, the very image seemed to be distorting, rippling into something else. I did not wish to watch, but I found my body pressed nearer to the plinth, my hair nearly falling from behind my shoulder. Slowly I saw Lord Elrond appear within the water, a strange council around him, men and elves and dwarves. I suddenly gasped when I saw a young man with dark curly hair, no bigger than a child, get up and place something in the centre of the circle. The men all leaned in to see whatever it was. The image darkened, only to be replaced by another. It was Melusine, her eyes dark with pain and tears falling from her eyes. Some great evil was within Rivendell and I prayed they would all be safe.  
"What did you see?" she asked, her voice in my mind again.  
"Do not you know?" I replied.  
"Tell me what you saw."  
"Lord Elrond, gathered with a council, the child was there…though I could now see he was a man, but with the height of a child. He had brought something to Rivendell, some great evil."  
"And then?"  
"Then I saw Melusine and she wept for them, she wept for them all."

The Lady Galadriel slowly nodded.  
"The Ring of Power seeks his master, which is what the hobbit carries. They bear it to Mount Doom for its destruction."  
"Do you think they will succeed?" I asked.  
"They have to, otherwise this world will be enslaved by poison and fire."  
"How can one so small carry something so weighty, that bears the fate of us all?"  
"Even the smallest person can change the course of the future, as well you know." she smiled.  
I looked down to the water, it remained still.  
"We have done enough for tonight," she said, "You are weary."

She guided me back to my room and then bid me goodnight, but no matter how I plumped my pillow I could not sleep, my mind buzzed with excitement. So I then awoke the next morning, pale with dark eyes and a mind that would not remained focused on one subject for long. Although my sleep had been troubled, the thrill of what I had seen coursing through my blood kept me awake during the day. I scarce knew why it thrilled me, but I knew one day I would see the Ring bearer and it would not be too long until that day came.

* * *

The Lady Galadriel had suggested that perhaps my brother should go, as there was little for him to do, but he remained strong in his desire to stay and said he found plenty to interest him here. Each day the Lady Galadriel would allow me to follow her after breakfast and she would teach me of my powers, the way to govern and control them. I found it difficult and tiring, but I was growing a little better each day when deciding whether she would hear my thoughts or not. Still she did not reveal all to me, she said it was too much to speak of all at once. But after a month I persuaded her to tell me properly of my mother and father.

"Your mother was born and raised in Dol Amroth, she was some years younger than the Lady Finduilas, but they grew to be very close and at one point it was suggested your mother should marry Imrahil…"  
"Why did they not?" I asked.  
The Lady Galadriel gave a shrug, "Political reasons and those of love, I believe Imrahil courted your mother for a while, but both knew they did not love one another. When Lord Denethor met the Lady Finduilas and asked to be married to her, your mother was invited to Minas Tirith as one of her ladies-in-waiting. I believe your mother's hope and joy brought much comfort to the Lady Finduilas when she missed her home of the sea. And as you know it was there she met your father. Your mother was younger than him, only being fifteen, while he was six-and-twenty, but he grew to love her from a distance."  
"A distance?" I asked.  
"Yes, your mother made mention to Arwen that she begun to believe Hanel loved her from the year she was at court, but he was a man of the sword, not of words."

I could not help thinking the story thus far sounded incredibly romantic and wonderful. I did not believe it.  
"So what happened then?"  
"During the year your mother turned seventeen and young Boromir was born, your father became so incensed that any other man would woo your mother he would threaten near all to a duel and most were not unwise to no longer seek the attentions of your mother. She of course became suspicious when men were no longer writing poetry about her fair hair or blue eyes. The trail of frightened sweethearts led back to your father and she questioned him, he told her honestly that he loved her…"  
"Did she love him?" I ask; my chin resting on my hand, gazing up at the Lady Galadriel as though this were some great love story of old, the ones my mother used to speak of.  
"Yes, it takes more than duty to urge a woman to leave her home and abandon everything for a husband. But we will speak more on that later."  
"If she knew he loved her, why did she not seek him for his love?"  
"Your father was a distant man; there seemed little that stirred his passions other than the field of battle. When your mother approached him he had few words for her and she did not know what to make of his silences. I believe that when he told her the truth, she took it in her own hands to kiss him." Lady Galadriel gave me a soft smile.

"So they married?" I said, assuming they had been married at court with the blessing of Denethor's father and their own parents.  
"Nay, your mother insisted Hanel courted her…"  
I snorted with laughter at that, I could not imagine my father courting anyone,  
"I believe that was your father's reaction too, he said to your mother that he knew not how to court anyone. So she replied that she would teach him. Your mother and father courted for two years, before your father went to her father and begged for her hand."  
I nodded, "And then my father rebelled when Denethor became the Steward and was defeated, he took my mother to Rivendell…"  
"Not quite, your grandfather did not believe the match to be worth anything. Remember your mother near became a princess of the realm, to have her marry a captain would have been beneath her…"  
"My grandfather did not approve the match?" I said.  
"And neither did Denethor."  
"Why did he not approve? Surely Finduilas spoke in my mother's favour if they were friends?"  
"No one is certain why, there were rumours that as the Lady Finduilas' weakened he began searching for another wife, but many dismissed that for they said he loved Finduilas dearly. It was known he never particularly liked your father, but he respected him well enough as a Captain and Hanel never showed any rebellion towards Denethor…But your mother and father did marry in secret."  
"What?" My head jolted up, I could scarce believe my traditional, determined father and my softly spoken mother could have even thought of this defiance, let alone seen it through.

"When your mother reached her twenty-third birthday, and her father began looking at suitors, they knew they could not wait."  
"What happened then?" I asked, feeling childishly innocent.  
"They say Denethor's fury and that of your grandfather was a powerful rage that would have swept many young lovers under, but your mother was surprisingly resilient and your father had a temper himself to rival theirs. They were sent to Anfalas, where your mother made herself beloved to your father's people and he managed to gain some forgiveness from her father when he proved himself worthy in battle. But she did not regain her dowry and Denethor never forgave her, though he allowed your father to return to Minas Tirith. Then of course came the rebellion and your father's defeat, Denethor banished them even further…All of this of course is based upon Arwen's retelling, your mother's own story and other details known like the rebellion. It is hard to say whether it is entirely truthful."

I sat in thought for a while, thinking upon my young mother and her choice. It was certainly a terrifying one, but I was envious of how she could choose between love and duty, not caring for whether the right decision had been made, just trusting herself to make it. I got up and gave a bow to the Lady Galadriel.  
"You leave?" she said.  
"You shall not speak to me any further upon the matter," I replied, "I have learnt that now."  
"True." she smiled.  
"I wish to speak upon the story of Melusine soon." I said.  
"We shall, but let us wait for your birthday and tonight I will have you look into my mirror once more."

I nodded my consent and then climbed the stairs to meet my brother in his room. He looked up from his book and gave his innocent smile. We spoke a while and then I told him of all I had been told. He listened intently and then said,  
"Our family kept so much hidden, so much secret and I cannot tell why."  
"It is no longer a matter of father's pride." I said.  
"No one's pride can last that long. Do you think his rebellion had something to do with mother?"  
"Perhaps, but how could it be linked to her?"  
"I could not tell you, tis merely conjecture. Why would a Lord care what a young girl did and who she married?"  
I shrugged.  
"There must be some reason for it." Dòmhnall persisted.  
"The Lady Galadriel was not even certain, she said what she had learned was through others and news from travellers."  
"I do not believe that, she knows all."  
"The Sight is not limitless," I snapped, "Often what is shown is very incomplete, people are not known and events are strange and beyond our grasp."  
"She knew of you." he said.  
"She knew of our mother and what Arwen told her…"  
"Has she spoken to you of what your fate will bring?"  
"In some ways."  
"But you still do not know what this fate means, how you will crown a king or help Gondor."  
"I know I will help them through my gifts, sometimes the path reveals itself to us when we tread upon it, not when we look for it." I got up, my skirts rustling against the smooth floor. Dòmhnall followed me.  
"Sister, I did not mean to upset you…"  
"Neither does anyone else, yet you all do, for you all seem to still see me as a girl who does not know what she intends. I know what I wish to do. If Thorongil is the destined King then I wish to help him."  
Dòmhnall embraced me, "Then that shall be your brothers' wishes also."

* * *

I looked down into the depths once more, the ripples travelling across the cold surface, until I see myself. I look up at the Lady Galadriel, her eyes never move from mine and so I look back down again. I see myself smile; a cruel, delectable smile, though I know no delight touches my lips. A man comes to stand behind me, and though I turn, he exists only in the basin, when I look back I see him embrace me. Then another man appears at my side, I recognise him as the old King, King Isildur and I see the burning lust in his eyes. I move away from him. Frightened of that gaze, that intense look. And abruptly the water shifts and I see a black mask, blackened armour, plated and cold, and his eyes burning into my own. I scream and trip over backwards, stumbling away from what I had seen.

"You said I would be unharmed, you said I would not see that…" I cried to Galadriel, who has remained where she stands.  
"What did you see?" she asks calmly.  
"The Steward, the King and…"  
"And…?"  
"The man with the burning eyes."  
"Sauron. You are right to fear him; it is he who will bring this world to its knees."  
"What does he want with me?" I asked.  
"You know he wants something from you?"  
"I am in no mood for riddles." I shouted, "Tell me, so I may defend myself. Do not keep me in darkness."  
Her eyes fill somewhat with pity and she moves over to me, helping me up from the ground.  
"Sauron knows the gifts you possess, the fate of the King remaining with you and the Ring bearer. He intends to use you against the Ring bearer and so against the King."  
"What can I do?"  
"Remember everything I teach you and aid the King as best you can."  
She places a cool kiss on my forehead, "To bed. May Melusine bless you."  
I obediently climb the stairs, the feeling of joy no longer present or that cold horror, but I can feel determination in my mind. I shall do everything in my power to assist the king. Though when I wrap my blankets around me I cannot stop shivering or crying.

* * *

My apologies with the delay, but this week has been very busy (especially as I have a new love interest, who looks strangely like Faramir/David Wenham :D Weird, but I'm not going to complain ;)) I'm struggling a wee bit with chapter 11, but I'm already going through draft number three (so fingers-crossed it will be fine). Lots of love xxx


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

"You will speak to me of Melusine?" I said.  
"Yes, but you will eat your breakfast firstly and then open the gifts we have for you." Galadriel smiled at me. It was a strange relationship we shared, more like that of teacher and student than anything else, but in some ways she did feel like something of a mother to me. I followed her down the stairs and into the hall, the tables covered in white cloths and silver plates.

"Happy birthday, sister."  
My brother kissed my cheek and handed me my first gift. I grinned when I could feel that underneath the wrapping was a book. I sat down next to him and opened the gift. The book was bound with brown leather, with a painting on the front of a full court, the people looking merry and joyful, the tables filled with food and in the centre a court poet stood.  
"The Tales and Legends of Gondor." I murmured, reading the title.  
"Seeing as we were headed there, I saw the use in having it."  
"In case I am tested by a group of children before we gain access to the gates?" I smiled.  
He laughed, "Who knows what terrors we could face."  
"Well I thank you for it."  
I flipped the cover open and read the title of the first story, '_The Legend of Tristan and Isolde.' _I frowned,  
"We know this one, do we not? Tristan and Isolt?" I pushed the book nearer my brother.  
"Ah yes, that was one mother sung. 'Who knows not the tragedy of Tristan and Isolt? The fair-haired Rohan harper whose hands held steel and string? And Gondor's greatest treasure, borne like a swan 'cross the water, while the waves approaching bowed before her beauty?' I am sure there are many stories you will know in that book."

As we finish breakfast, Haldir comes to speak with Lord Celeborn and then walks towards my table. I feel a little nervous, the marchwarden rarely speaks to me.  
"I recalled it is your birthday today and Elrohir begged me to give you a gift from him, Elladan, Arwen and their father."  
He takes out a sword from his side, longer than my short sword and beautifully crafted. The sheath made of strong brown leather and patterned with golden flowers and leaves. I eagerly take it from his hands. I pull the sword out of the sheath to examine the blade and test the weight within my hands.  
"Typical, give my sister a book and she pays little heed, give her a sword…" Dòmhnall gestures, grinning at me, even Haldir smiles.  
"I wish I could thank them." I say, "So I shall thank you in their stead."  
He smiles and bows his head, "Should I ever see them I will pass on your gratitude. It is a beautiful blade."  
I push the blade back into the sheath and tie the sheath to my belt.  
"We should practice after breakfast," Dòmhnall says. I nod happily.

"But you will not forget our gift," Lady Galadriel places another wrapped gift before me and then returns to her seat with Lord Celeborn, who raises his goblet to me. I dispense with the velvet wrapping of the gift. It is a mirror, silver back and round, patterned with coiled ivy leaves. I look up to the Lady Galadriel, she smiles at me.  
'Use this as you would use my mirror.' Her voice whispers to me.  
I stare into the mirror, the silver shine overcoming my eyes and making me think it ripples like water.  
I see Melusine again, her dark eyes gazing into my own, before she is replaced by my own image again.  
'Do not use it yet.' I hear her voice, but I am too caught up in the mirror and before I can stop I see a long staircase, broken into several pieces. Some of those from the council of Elrond run up the stairs, fleeing the arrows of their enemy. I see Thorongil staring into the dark abyss and feel my breath catch in my throat. Then suddenly the mirror is pulled away from me, Lady Galadriel's eyes are cold.  
'I told you not to use it yet.' She covers it in the dark blue velvet and puts it beside the book. I look to Dòmhnall and Lord Celeborn, neither of whom seems to have noticed anything at all. Lady Galadriel gives me that frightening look once more and then sits down.

* * *

I try to speak to her of why she did so, but she blocks my thoughts from her mind and so all I can do is glare at her.  
"Will you not tell me of Melusine?" I say.  
Her eyes warn me not to speak of it and so I leave her company. I make my way down the stairs with Dòmhnall and we practice our swordplay. I borrow some of his leggings and an old tunic. I am out of practice. The sword I have been given is a fine sword, well-crafted and good in my hands.  
"What will you call it?" asks my brother.  
"My sword?"  
"Aye, all swords need a name."  
"Calithil."  
"Moonlight." he snorted, "You cannot call it that."  
"Why not?"  
"It has to be called something like, 'Beheader-of-a-thousand-goblins', something along those lines."  
"Well, Calithil has yet to behead a thousand goblins." I smiled and put the sword back in my sheath.  
Despite our practice lasting long into the late morning and when I return to my room I read the book Dòmhnall gave me, I still feel disquiet. It is as though I wish to say to anyone who would listen, 'They draw nearer, they will be here soon.' But I am certain if I do people will think me mad, I would tell the Lady Galadriel but her fury was fearsome. I dare not approach her today.

* * *

I carry the desire to tell someone for days, sometimes the words feel they could spill from my mouth at any time and often I awaken finding myself repeating the words over and over, as though the very sound relieves my frustration. It is only when a week has passed the Lady Galadriel approaches me after dinner.  
"I was unkind to you and sharp. I simply fear there is much for you to learn, still much for you to control. You can use the mirror when and as you wish, but only when you feel strong, it is not wise to use it when weak."  
"I thank you, my lady, for your fine gift. But I fear we do not have much time for learning." I reply, "I know someone draws near, I saw them a week ago, who knows where they are now."  
"Who draws near?"  
"Some of those from the council of Lord Elrond, I could not see who all of them were, but I know Thorongil is with them."  
"Ah," she nods, "Then so it begins."  
I frowned in puzzlement, "What begins…?"  
"My Lady," a maidservant appeared at the doorway, "There are strangers in our land, his Lordship has sent for you."  
"I will follow you presently." She said, then turned back to me, "We shall speak of Melusine anon. Sit with your brother for now, I will join you soon."

She left the room and I was tempted to follow her, but then decided that in accordance with the last time I had disobeyed her it would not be worth any knowledge of who these strangers were. I made my way to the Hall where Dòmhnall was sat reading and joined his company. I quietly told him that there were strangers here.  
"We are not meant to meet with them?" he said.  
"Not yet, at any rate." I replied. I considered telling him of the vision I had and seeing Thorongil, but I decided not to do so.  
I saw he had my mother's book opened in front of him, I came closer and looked down at the picture.  
"Ah yes, there are several stories concerning Melusine, though none where she is named." he said, on seeing my surprised expression as I looked at the woman in the water, bearing forth a sword to the King.  
"She comes under many names, Nimeuh, Viviane, Elaine, Niniane, Nivian, Nyneve, Evienne, Melusine, all bear the same title, _The Lady of the Lake_." Dòmhnall explains. "But see here, the Steward remains. Once the King has the sword he disappears and the Steward promises his love to her."

I gazed down at the man, arm prostrated towards the woman, her face turned back to look upon him. Something between amusement and mild interest played upon her face, but there was affection there for it was as though she lingered at the water's edge. Desiring to enter her realm once more, yet desiring to stay, to hear what this man said. I heard a sob, a sharp intake of breath and I looked to my brother, almost ready to tease him but his eyes were clear and his face untroubled. He looked at me.  
"What is it?"  
"You did not weep then?" I asked.  
"Why would I weep?"  
I shook my head in confusion.  
"Was it another vision?" he asked.  
"Nay, I do not think…I hardly know, I thought I heard someone sigh."  
"Well I can hardly say, I heard no sound certainly. Are you sure it was not the trees?"  
"Nay, it was a man's sob. It was not the sigh of the trees."  
"I assure you I made no sound; neither did anyone in the hallway."  
I frowned and rubbed my forehead, "I hope I do not go mad just yet."  
Dòmhnall grinned at me and I looked back to the book.

"Dòmhnall, Melusida, I believe there is someone you will be glad to see." The Lady Galadriel had entered the room. Dòmhnall and I both looked up as several people trooped into the room, most of them wearing armour and travelling clothes, including our older brother! I think we were frozen for some time and then Hamnet raced towards us, gathering us into his arms.  
"Hamnet!" I cried involuntarily, he excitedly moved back to see us both.  
"Dear Valar, little sister, what happened to you?"  
"What do you mean?" I asked.  
"You have grown so much."  
"As have you." said Dòmhnall, grinning.  
"Don't get me started on you, little brother. You and I will be the same height before too long."

"Dòmhnall and Melusida? What are you doing here?" I glanced over my brother's head, seeing Thorongil smiling at us both.  
"Thorongil!" I jumped up and embraced him, then blushed as he laughed. "Sorry, I…We did not think we would ever see you both till we reached Gondor."  
"Thorongil?" I looked down, seeing one of the hobbits. I opened my mouth with joy on seeing them.  
"It is you." I cried at once.  
"Me…what?" The hobbit said.  
I looked over towards his other companions, towards the dark-haired hobbit, sitting quietly by himself. His face held so many secrets, so much sorrow. A great evil was rotting away his heart.  
"Oh…Where is the tenth?"  
The companions instantly stopped what they were doing and looked up at me, Hamnet approached me quickly.  
"What did you mean by that?"  
"Nothing." I replied, "It just came out. Sorry."  
And then I realised why I had said it, why Thorongil had looked over the precipice. I gazed back to him. The Lady Galadriel was wearing her knowing smile.  
"He fell." I whispered.

"Melusida, stop this." My older brother muttered. I looked up to him, his eyes dark with fear.  
"I cannot help it. It is our mother's gift, she knew I would inherit it."  
"There is no such thing." Hamnet said and I almost felt disappointed in seeing my older brother disbelieve me. He had changed so much, he was growing to look like father, with his dark hair and eyes, yet was leaner where father had been weightier.  
"Melusida has a gift, she knows of things to come." Dòmhnall said. Hamnet frowned.  
"Is that how you knew Gandalf had fallen?" I looked up and my mouth dropped open with surprise at who had spoken. It was the man from my dreams. Boromir, son of Denethor. He looked tired and pale, but otherwise uninjured. He seemed unnerved by my expression. Hamnet tugged on my sleeve. I turned back to the Lady Galadriel, she gave a smile,  
"There is much for you to discuss." she said and then left the room.

"Including my name," Thorongil smiled at me, "I now take my true name, Aragorn, son of Arathorn."  
"Aragorn is the future King of Gondor." said Hamnet.  
"I know." I said, Aragorn gave an amused smile.  
"Why did you say 'It is you', what did you mean by that?" The hobbit asked me.  
"I have seen things, the council Lord Elrond held and your journey here. It is part of my gift and there is a reason for having it. We are all destined for certain things and as was spoken by the Lady Galadriel when I was born..." I could feel all their eyes upon me, but still I continued, "I am destined to crown the King of Gondor."  
The dwarf gave a bark of laughter, "We have no time to pander to fanciful ladies."  
"And I have no time to pander to stubborn dwarves," I said, irritably looking at the red-haired dwarf then back to Aragorn, who was studying me intently. "I am not a fanciful. I am Melusida, daughter of Hanel, descendent of Melusine, a water goddess."

I saw Boromir look up at me and the Elf who journeyed with them.  
"If you have the powers you speak of why not prove them." The Elf said.  
"Have I not already?" I asked.  
He gave a short nod, but then said, "It would be good to see them for ourselves, though I doubt you not."  
I went to the door; with the idea of fetching my mirror I had been given. But I saw the dark haired hobbit look up at me, his eyes full of fear. I knew I should not. It would not be safe.  
"I cannot…" I said.  
"Why not?" asked Boromir.  
"There is a great evil amongst you, were I to allow myself to see I fear the evil would see us."  
The fair haired Elf looked at me again, "That is proof enough."  
"It is hardly proof at all, Legolas. A common street conjurer could do what she does." Boromir said.  
"But I am not." I said angrily, "And Steward son or no, I would prefer it if you addressed me directly. There, how could I know that, Boromir, son of Denethor?"  
I saw his mouth open and closed and Aragorn gave a wry smile.

"Sister, the road ahead is no place for a lady." Hamnet said.  
"Then it is just as well I have never been raised in the court or really have any claim to such a title. It is not a matter of whether I should come with you or no, it is a matter of what has come to past and were you intend to go on to."  
Hamnet sighed and smiled at me, "I think you have inherited a little of father's stubbornness." Then he sighed and looked down to his feet, "Lord Elrond told me what happened, I am sorry I could not…I could not…"  
I embraced Hamnet again, "Did he tell you of our family's past?" I asked.  
"Aye," Hamnet whispered, "And I think you just made someone else aware of it too." He nodded his head towards Boromir, who was keeping his eyes firmly upon the ground.

* * *

"Hamnet you have yet to tell us everyone's name." I said.  
"Forgive me…"  
"The Sight does not let you see all of our names then, just mine?" muttered Boromir.  
"The Sight did not let me see anyone's name. I dreamt of you and Aragorn, but I knew not your names. I told the Lady Galadriel of my dreams and she told me who you were."  
Boromir grunted in response.  
"This is Legolas of Mirkwood." The fair-haired elf smiled at me and gave a short bow.  
Perhaps it was because I had lived around elves all my life or that he had believed me, but I liked him instantly, at least a good deal more so than Boromir and the dwarf.  
"This is Gimli, son of Glóin."  
"My lady." The dwarf muttered, I sensed the barb behind the cordiality, but paid no heed to it.  
"Aragorn and Boromir, you know of course." My brother smiled at Boromir, but he did not look up at us. Aragorn nodded to Dòmhnall and I.  
"And the hobbits, this is Merry, Pippen, Sam and Frodo of the Shire."  
Merry and Pippen gave me broad smiles and Sam a small one, Frodo's eyes however did not meet my own, though he did bow his head out of respect. Perhaps it was because they were small or because Frodo seemed to be weighed down by his burden I had an instant desire to protect them.  
"It is a strange group to travel together." I said, remembering the enmity between the dwarves and elves and I considered the hobbits were probably more of a burden than any help, however keen they were.  
"It is a strange quest." Hamnet replied.

So while the group rested they told me the story, of what had happened and what they intended to do. Several times I glanced over at Frodo who kept his head down throughout the retelling. They then told me who had fallen and why the group grieved his name, Gandalf. Dòmhnall caught my eye, unfortunately Hamnet saw it.  
"What is it? I am unused to these furtive looks now, what did you see?" he asked me.  
"It was not anything I saw. But when Dòmhnall and I were together earlier, I heard a sob, though Dòmhnall swears he heard no sound."  
Boromir's head shot up at that point and he looked at us.  
"Was it you?" I asked.  
He looked down to the round shield he carried with him, so identical to the one in my dream I could barely believe it was real.  
"It is not a crime to weep for the dead." Dòmhnall said.  
Boromir scowled at my brother, got up and left the room.  
"This death is hard for us all." said Legolas.  
"He was a good friend to us." Aragorn agreed.

I decided to follow Boromir, something troubled him and it was not just Gandalf's death or my family's history. Hamnet grabbed hold of my sleeve when I tried.  
"Boromir has struggled." he whispered to me.  
"Then perhaps I can help." I said, "I am destined to aid both the King and the Steward."  
I pulled my arm away from him and Hamnet sat down with Dòmhnall, knowing it would be useless to argue with me.

I crept from the room and down the stairs, seeing Boromir had not gone so far, just out to one of the balconies. I walked over to him.  
"Can a man not be left in peace…?" he spun around, "Oh, it is you…"  
"No, I did not intend to disturb you, but I do realise you will be surprised and angered at my family's history."  
He sighed and looked back out over the view.  
"I am surprised your brother did not tell me." he said. "We have been travel companions and brothers-in-arms for so long."  
"It was probably done for good reason, so as to not colour your opinion of him."  
"My opinion of him would not change, I know he is a brave man and good soldier."  
"But were you not angered with him just now?" I said.  
"Yes, but simply because he had kept it a secret, and did not seek to tell me." His brow furrowed.  
"I am sure he was troubled by it, as were Dòmhnall and I. But Lord Elrond spoke to us about it, he believes that a person's action derives who they are, not what their family has done."

He gave something of a smile then, though it was cautious and reluctant, "You seek my forgiveness?"  
"Should we not?" I smiled, he sighed and lent on the balcony's wall.  
"Mine is easily given, your brother fought bravely in Gondor and when I left for Rivendell he desired to return with me to see his family – You – again. He reminds me somewhat of my own brother."  
"We're glad to see him again and that he served you well, I missed my older brother, I had not seen him for three years."  
"A soldier's life is difficult when he is apart from his kin for so long."

We stayed motionless at the balcony for some time, now and then I saw him cast his eyes down upon me, but I stayed looking out, before turning back to him.  
"You are troubled, will you tell me why?"  
He gave something of a broken laugh then, "I barely speak of my ills to the fellowship and I have certainly known them for a while longer than you, my lady."  
I shrugged, "Men are not ones for sharing their troubles, but as fortunate would have it I am not a man, tell me."  
His dark grey eyes locked onto my own, searching for my silence if he told me.  
"It is hard for me…it is hard to resist what power that ring has, if I could use it, govern it for the strength of Gondor…" his eyes took on a mad gleam and his voice rose a notch. I bit my lip, frightened and sorry for this desperate man. Then all at once his eyes became fearful and he looked down at me.  
"It is not something we can use and it would be dangerous if we tried." I said.  
"I know this, but–"  
"But what?"  
"We must consider Gondor firstly." he said.

I frowned; Gondor was not the sole country upon this earth.  
"No, we should not." I said.  
"You are descended from Gondor, however disgraced. It is both our duty…"  
"To protect Middle Earth, not just Gondor. Bringing the ring to Minas Tirith would provide no protection for your own people or anyone else. You may as well offer it up to Sauron on a gold platter."  
"You know little of these matters." he snarled, but I was not daunted by his strength nor anger.  
"Oh aye, I know little of these matters! My name was spoken concerning this, years before you even saddled your horse to get here."  
A low growl escaped his lips and I still stood, squaring up to this tall man of Gondor.  
"My lord? Sister…?" a nervous Hamnet stood at the doorway, while I continued to glare at Boromir.  
"You'll be glad to hear that I have forgiven you Hamnet and your brother, despite your secrecy…I am yet decided on your sister." he said angrily, before walking away from me and down the stairs to the dining Hall.

I indignantly swept away from the balcony and climbed the staircase back to the Hall, Hamnet caught up with me. He grabbed my sleeve and would let me walk no further.  
"I am not certain what happened in the three years I was gone, but what, in Valar's name, where you doing?" he whispered furiously.  
"Speaking my mind." I replied.  
"Speaking your mind? Speaking your mind?"  
"Yes, brother. It was speaking my mind that saved Dòmhnall's and my own life, as well as Elladan and Elrohir. Speaking my mind has so far proved useful."  
"Can I remind you that you were 'speaking your mind' to Boromir, the Steward's son, Captain of the White Tower…?"  
"You can remind me, but what of it?"  
My brother's mouth dropped open, "I thought you had grown stubborn, but no such insult…"  
"I had no intention of offending anyone; I just fail to see why no other country but Gondor is seen as worth saving."  
"That is not what Boromir means when he says…"  
"Then what does he mean?"

"You must remember sister that Gondor has been his life since he was born…"  
"And Rivendell was mine, yet I do not suggest that all other countries should fall before any harm comes to Rivendell."  
"Rivendell is very different from Gondor." My brother muttered.  
"That is not the point; we are attempting to save Middle Earth, not just Gondor." I said.  
"We?"  
"I am journeying on with you, whether I have your permission or no." I said.  
"Excellent, a family argument already." Dòmhnall grinned at us both, before sauntering down the stairs. "What is it?"  
"Melusida has insulted Boromir."  
"Only by suggesting he should show a care for other countries and not just his own." I said.  
"He has spent his whole life defending Gondor."  
"I'm not getting involved with this." said Dòmhnall, as he walked down the rest of the steps.

* * *

You know what writers love? Reviews ;) Just going to say, concerning this story, I came up with a brilliant idea today with my good friend. So now my friend Connie is my muse! So exciting times ahead, keep reviewing/favouriting/following xxx


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

I got to know the Fellowship after that, though there was still an unease and grief amongst them, especially that of Frodo. I do not know if I deliberately avoid Frodo or whether he does not wish to come near me, but whenever either one of us were present I felt my eyes drawn towards him. I found my eyes lingering upon him, they travelled to his defenceless neck and the chain of gold he wore, I felt such a strong, potent desire to take it from him, even though I have not seen it. It felt as though my blood burned and held an unceasing longing. I feel it would help my power, help me see clearer and stronger…but when I gained this agony I swiftly left and avoided looking at him.

I liked the way Sam was a constant comfort to him, always by his side, a friend could not have been truer or kinder. Legolas I liked also, though he was often silent and mused upon his thoughts; but he would always welcome me with a calm smile and a nod of his head, even if we did not speak much. Aragorn seemed happy to see me and I was a better insight on Rivendell than either of my brothers; it filled my heart with both sadness and joy to see how his voice would become a little softer when he spoke of Arwen, though he rarely did for there was always a little melancholy in his eyes when he recalled her name. I still found myself calling him Thorongil on occasion, which would make Gimli, Pippin and Merry laugh and the others smile at my blunder. Gimli had grown a little warmer towards me, but he still seemed to dismiss the idea that any woman could carry a blade and wield it.

"I doubt you not lass, but it would be a shame to…"  
"If you doubt me not, then you will let me battle you." I grinned.  
Hamnet looked up, I rolled my eyes at him and he went back to cleaning his sword, hiding his own smile.  
"My sister is a fearsome opponent Gimli."  
"Which is the very reason I chose not to battle her." Gimli said.

I sighed and picked up the dishes, we had just finished lunch at that time. I knew he thought me foolish. I was done with pointing out they allowed the hobbits to train with a sword, but would not allow myself to practice with the men. Merry and Pippin were more than happy to battle with me and I was still fortunate Dòmhnall believed the men's stance to be foolish, if I was to join them on the quest. Legolas at least was willing to assist me with my archery. But even Aragorn refused my attempts to urge him to fight with me and Boromir…well Boromir had endeavoured to not even look at me since our argument. He would occasionally snort with contempt when I spoke, receiving several foul looks from Dòmhnall and even Hamnet at times. Aragorn and Legolas bade me to be patient with him.

"This quest is as trying for him, as it is for Frodo." said Aragorn.  
"How so?" I asked.  
Aragorn gave me a look and then turned from me, I caught hold of his sleeve.  
"If you are to receive my help, I would ask you would be honest with me." I said.  
He gave a sad smile, "You have changed much from the girl I used to know…"  
"Yes, I am aware of that. I had to."  
"The Ring is a great source of power; it would tempt the strongest will of many men. Boromir's desire to protect his home is a valiant desire, but it leaves him weak to the power of that evil."

I nodded, understanding perhaps a little better and wondering if I had been too harsh with him. I had spoken quickly and angrily, because I loved what had been my home too and I would not see Gondor survive while Rivendell fell. It was the only home I had left, even if I really belonged in Gondor. Our desires were more similar than I would have first believed. But I still felt something of anger that because I had questioned his judgement he had denied his forgiveness towards me, forgiveness should not rely on a condition. A wise man listens to those around him and forms the best opinion based on his own knowledge and experience and then that of others. I had grown to learn from Hamnet Boromir was a brave and good Captain, but that gave him no reason to dismiss my own worries of other countries and cities.

"I would have you read tonight." said the Lady Galadriel.  
I shook my head, "I fear what I will see, with that evil present."  
"I will guide you…"  
"You always say that." I snapped.  
She looked affronted, but still her calmness prevailed, "To aid the king, you must."  
I could feel panic constrict my throat and tears burning my eyes, "Please don't make me."  
"We must all suffer some pain, before goodness can triumph."  
Despite her coldness she came closer towards me and embraced me. I cried as a little girl once more with her mother, never knowing such cold fear run through my veins.  
"Please don't make me…please don't…I am…please." I sobbed, she held me tighter and then clasped my shoulders and looked down at me.  
"I will protect you."  
"You never have done!" I screamed.

We both heard the footsteps and looked to our left, Boromir stood on the threshold, looking uncertain and at once my dream flooded my mind, the arrows piercing his chest, the shield and horn he carried with him clutched tightly to his chest. I felt my tears spill down my cheeks and although the Lady Galadriel held my shoulder I was still shaking. What if I saw that? What if that was what I saw in the basin.  
"My lady…?" he seemed unsure what would comfort me.  
"She is fine, a little on edge." Lady Galadriel said, I nearly laughed at the understatement. I only managed a strangled choking sound. The Lady Galadriel gave me a comforting smile and then left. Boromir looked bemused and moved backwards.  
"It is foolish to bring along sentimental maidens." he said, while turning towards the door once more.  
"Am I so sentimental not to weep at what could happen?" I said, anger making me feel I could wrench the soft slippers I wore and throw them at him.  
"It is folly to weep at things unknown." he said.  
I opened my mouth to gape at him, near all the fellowship believed I bore a special gift. Was he still so adamant I did not? He sighed and pulled his hand through his hair.  
"If you see something that is destined to happen, then what is the use at weeping about it or attempting to change it?" he said.  
"I…" I could not think of anything to say. "Suppose it is someone important?"  
"If it is the will of the Valar then there is little to be done about it."  
"But…"  
He waited for me to finish my sentence.  
"Some things are not set in stone, sometimes there are different pathways we could take." I said. He assented his head.  
"I believe there are."

I suddenly felt very weak and sick, while he continued to look at me; hard grey eyes looking into my own. I dropped my head.  
"Why were you angry with the Lady Galadriel?" he asked suddenly.  
I looked up from where I had been gazing at my feet. "She…she wants me to look into her mirror."  
He frowned, "That does not sound a reason for tears."  
I smiled softly, "It is a mirror for scrying, not just vanity."  
"Oh I see…" There was a moment of silence, while I clutched my dress, "My brother would probably understand better." he said.

I could feel tears threatening again and fiercely looked down at the ground, if I looked at him I knew I would weep again. I heard him give another sigh and then his boots walking back to the doorway.  
"I am sorry, for what I said." I said, looking up. He looked back towards me and I saw his eyes no longer carried a secret pain or fear, just sorrow.  
"We shall forget it. You only said what the others think and what I know in my heart to be true."  
I nodded, "It is a difficult desire to protect those you love, but know in many ways you are helpless to do so."  
He smiled at me then, "I fear that my anger came from your understanding of me. You can see people too clearly, what they fear and desire."  
"Sorry." I muttered and he gave a bark of laughter at that, it made me jump because I had never heard his laugh before. I eventually smiled though and he gave a broad grin to me.  
"It is strange…" he muttered, "I feel a little…"  
"Feel what?" I asked.  
He shrugged, "I hardly know, perhaps my conscience feels clearer with you, who can say."  
He left the room then and I sunk down into a chair. I was glad we had forgiven one another, but I wondered what he meant by what he had said. Later when I went to dine with the fellowship he had the same fearful and dangerous look in his eyes, and as his gaze travelled over me towards Frodo, I wondered if I knew what he meant.

* * *

The Lady Galadriel no longer guided me downstairs now; instead she just waited for me by the basin, already filled with water. Normally she stood back and allowed me to see. This time she approached me and took my hands in her's, so we formed a circle around the mirror.  
"As promised." she said.  
I looked down into the water; it shifted and merged in the basin, rippling across.

I saw a beautiful Elleth, her dark hair hanging to her waist. Her sister stood beside her, silver-haired. Their smiles glorious in the sunshine. The water rippled and I saw the dark haired Elleth sitting by a river bank, she looked up and I saw, with dread, the young man who had smiled at me so maliciously. He made his way towards her and I saw the desire she had for him fill her eyes. I wanted to see no more, I wanted to let go of the Lady Galadriel's hands and no longer watch this, but she clung onto me tightly and I watched him make love to the girl, my stomach sickening at the sight. As it went on I looked up to the Lady Galadriel, her eyes burned with rage and sadness, I looked back down.

The mocking smile made me shudder, the same smile I had seen in the dreams, the same eyes. I fought to get my hands away. Suddenly the Elleth was writhing upon the ground, her mouth opened, screaming though I could not hear her. The image merged and I saw the Lady Galadriel kneeling by her side, desperately trying to comfort her, to help her. But her body writhed furiously whenever Galadriel touched her or they tried to place a cloak upon her to preserve her modesty. I saw tears slip from under the Elleth's closed eyes and her hands furiously scratch at her skin, as though it were burning her. Scratching her skin so much it bled.  
Suddenly the Lady Galadriel let go of my hands, the image disappearing and she walked to the stream pouring under the tree. I waited for her to say something, wondering what I had seen.

"That was my daughter, Calaeriel. Few know of her and if you asked any who did they would not speak of her."  
"What happened?" I whispered.  
"Did not you see? I shared that vision for a reason." she said, I heard her voice tremble. "Annatar was the tempter and he tempted my daughter."  
"What did he do?"  
Her eyes fixed coldly on mine and I blushed, "I mean, why was she screaming in agony and pain?"  
"It was a magic she did not understand, his anger and pain burned her. There was nothing we could do to comfort and aid her, but what we could do would destroy her as we knew and give her a new life. An ancient form of magic that few knew and none had practiced…but it mattered little, she had come to the point where she neither lived nor died. If the spell did not work then death was merciful."  
The Lady Galadriel stayed away from me, her head bowed a little, as her mind recalled all she had seen.

"What happened? Did the magic work?" I said.  
She nodded dully, her face blank, "She was transformed into an ancient being and as the pain had burned her, so the waters healed her. She could no longer remain on this earth, but instead became a water spirit, a woman of water, the Lady of the Lake." Her eyes met mine and my mind reeled at what she said.  
"Her name changed, both because of the stories of men and because she was no longer Calaeriel. In the stories she is known as Nimeuh, Elaine or as your family prefers, Melusine."  
I frowned in confusion and shock, both fearing what I understood and praying I did not understand it fully.  
"What was spoken is true; your family are descended from her. For when she believed herself healed she made her way to land, presenting herself before the King and Steward on their way to Gondor. But there was still part of her that belonged to Sauron, part of her that could not exist within the land of men and was tempted by the Shadow of the East. She knew she had to die, but had not the heart to kill the children that contained the deceived flesh and spirit of the tempter."

I stood by the basin, my hand holding tightly onto the stone plinth.  
"My brothers and I are not evil." I said finally.  
"No, but your hearts will call out to the Shadow. Sauron will seek you for his own; the power of a girl who can foretell what is to come is something he will desire."  
"What can I do?" I whispered.  
"Your fate draws you to aid the King, for you are made up of both light and shadow, but you must guard against being enslaved by Sauron."  
"How?"  
"A knife always has some use. If you are caught, you cannot wait."

She left the room, her gown silently moving over the leaves, as she walked up the stairs. I sat by the plinth, resting my forehead against the cold stone. Was this why Lord Elrond had feared me? Not some superstitious, women's nonsense as Arwen had claimed, but a real and true reason. I shook my head; Melusine had been wilful and strong, but never evil. But then neither had Calaeriel. Sauron was evil and her spirit had been tainted by his. I could endanger everyone's life, so why was I still here?  
"Because if they have you, then you are safe from him." The Lady Galadriel whispered into my mind.

I got up and went to my bed chamber, lying awake and thinking over all I had seen. The Lady Galadriel had loathed showing me it, showing me her daughter destroyed, but as she had said she had done so for a reason. Where I to fall into the enemy's hands I was not to wait for anyone to rescue me, I was to take my own life. It frightened me, but it was not the part of death that I feared, but the leaving of those I loved. I would see those I knew, my mother and father, perhaps even Melusine. But my brothers, I would not be able to do anything but watch them from afar. I did not want my death to be on their conscience. How would they bear losing their mother and father and then their sister? I put on my silver blue robe and made my way down to their room; I watched them through the doorway, the silver light of the forest shining on their faces as they slept. Peaceful, sweet souls that did not carry the same evil as I. It was a woman's curse and gift, and I knew what it was to be alone. I walked down to the balcony alongside the hall.

* * *

"You cannot sleep?"  
Boromir came to my side as I looked out over the forest of Lothlórien.  
"It seems the world keeps her peace here, but I find it does not tempt me to sleep." he said.  
I bit my tongue and did not look at him, my mouth was already held taut by tears and the moon glazed as I tried to fight back the waters filling my eyes.  
"Not more tears?" I heard his laughter, but still did not look at him, how could a man not understand? When I did not turn to look at him, I felt his gaze linger upon me and I jumped when he placed his hand upon my arm. I quickly wiped away my tears and took a few deep breaths of the cool, night air.  
"Melusida? What is the matter?"  
I shook my head, "Tis nothing."  
He rested upon the cool bar running around the balcony and sighed, then said to me.  
"You lie, tell me the truth."  
I bit my mouth so fiercely I could taste the sweet, tang of blood.  
"Do you wish for me to call your brothers or the Lady Galadriel?" he asked.  
"Nay, they will not be able to help me."  
"Then tell me."  
"I cannot."  
"Why not?"

I looked up at him and his determined grey eyes caught me by surprise. They no longer carried that dark desire he had at dinner and they looked at me with pity and kindness. I felt my legs shake slightly and I gripped tighter onto the bar to stop myself falling.  
"The Lady Galadriel told me the reason for being here… I serve no purpose; I am more of a burden than anything worthy at all. I am only here to be under your protection. If the enemy catches me…then I am to kill myself, I am not to wait for anyone to rescue me…and I fear what my brothers would suffer, because they have lost so much."  
I could not help tears falling then and Boromir politely looked out, waiting for me to finish, before turning back.  
"Then it is our duty to protect you, as we protect Frodo."  
"You do not understand, I thought I was meant for something greater, something more than this…"  
"You are to crown the King, which is a great feat in itself."  
"That is meaningless. I am nothing better than a lady of court, useless and pale and flabby…"

I suddenly caught his smile, threatening to break into laughter.  
"What?" I questioned, angry and hurt at his amusement of me.  
He burst into peals of laughter and quickly caught hold of my arm before I stormed off.  
"Unhand me." I said.  
"Lady or no, the Fellowship protects one another no matter their gender. And I am simply amused at your descriptions of the ladies at court; remember I know some of those ladies…"  
"Oh." I blushed, "I did not mean at Minas Tirith."  
But this only served to make him laugh harder, "Of course you did not mean Minas Tirith. But the description is, in some ways, accurate."  
I smiled then at his humour, though his face grew serious after a while.  
"I will see to it that your brothers are well and should anything happen to you, though Valar forbid it, then I will explain what it is you must do."  
I feel I should say more, but can only manage "Thank you." I know it does not convey everything. My hands enclose over the bar and he comes to stand by my side.

"It is nearly morning," he says after a moment, "We should both try to rest a little."  
I nod and then jump when I feel his hand briefly touch mine.  
"Sorry…I did not mean…"  
"It is fine, it does not matter." I say hastily, "I should go to bed."  
"Goodnight." He says, giving me a short bow. I manage a curtsey and then make my way up the stairs, leaving him to his thoughts. I do not know why we have become so courteous with one another, but perhaps it is for the best, perhaps this is meant to be the way I help the Steward's son.

* * *

Entirely unsure with this chapter, but there is meant to be some passing of time within it, after all the fellowship aren't sure how long they stay in Lothlorien. I will try to post chapter 13 asap, but I'm not sure on that one either, so I've got my lovely, little muse reading it and I'm going to wait and see what she says. Thank you to LalaithElerrina (which btw is a really pretty name) for your lovely review and for everyone else who is reading.

xxx


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

We are packed and ready to go, my pack containing my books and clothes. My sword at my side. I leave the beautiful dresses back in the chest and steal a pair of my younger brother's breeches, I did try Hamnet's but he is too tall and muscular than I. The small tunic I had worn on my original journey is a good deal cleaner than when we first started out, the colour is clearer. I quickly pull back my hair and tie it back in a leather thong, before making my way downstairs for breakfast.

I see Hamnet give a start and nearly choke on his apple, Aragorn hides a smile and pats Hamnet on the back.  
Hamnet coughs, "You look like one of the Shieldmaidens of Rohan."  
Dòmhnall chuckles, "Though her dark hair gives her away."  
"Just get me a wig and a horse and we have nothing to worry about." I reply.  
"I am worried now, I feel sure you will leading some sort of horse charge into battle." Hamnet says.  
I smile and break some bread off a larger loaf.  
"Nay, I prefer to be on foot." I grin and a look of amused pain crosses Hamnet's face.  
"Dear Valar, why did I agree to this?"  
"You agreed to nothing, I am coming whether you like it or not." I reply.

The fellowship all smile, though I note Boromir seems to be avoiding my gaze, his bread and cheese are apparently the most fascinating thing in the world now. I wonder whether it is because Frodo is sat to my right; I have grown to know him a little better, despite his long silences and I try to be a comfort to him, though ever since the night with Galadriel I fear he may know what my spirit holds. I shiver and rub my hands along my shirt.  
"Eat Frodo; we do not know how long we will journey before we have a breakfast as fine as this." I say softly, but he still looks startled and quickly picks up a pear, though he does not seem to comprehend what it is. I gently place my hand on his shoulder.

The white flash across my eyes shocks me and I can hear that I have dropped my goblet. I clamp my mouth tight shut and I can feel my hands grip the table. I hear their worried cries, but I can already see the vision; cold water, my lungs desperate for air and then those eyes I have come to know so well, but still dread. I am released from the vision, though I gasp for air as though I was drowned.  
"Melusida? Are you alright? What did you see?" I had not realised Hamnet and Dòmhnall were both at my side, the other fellowship have risen from their chairs, all wearing looks of concern.  
"I'm fine," I manage to say at last, "I did not really see anything…just water."  
"Water?" says Hamnet.  
"We travel by river today, though I hardly see why this calls for a vision. This was already known." Boromir says, he smiles a little, but looks grim.  
"It was not…it was not related to that, it was like being drowned."

I find that not knowing what it meant terrifies me more than anything. I have no desire to think on it or talk about it.  
"Let us not speak of it." I say.  
"Are you certain we should not?" asked Aragorn.  
I nod, "There is nothing of value within it."  
"Surely there must be a reason for it to be shown to you." Legolas says.  
"I shall talk to the Lady Galadriel about it later."  
I will not talk to her though, for I do not wish to. I continue to eat and so do the hobbits and Gimli, but the rest of their eyes I feel upon me for a long time, even before they continue with their own food.

* * *

They see us off with many fine gifts, beautiful green, silver cloaks for us all with a clasp of ivy and a precious gift each Legolas has a new bow, Gimli three locks of hair from Galadriel, Sam Elven rope. Frodo receives the Light of Eärendil, the brightest and most beloved star. It suited him well when the darkness clung around him like the cloak.

When the Lady Galadriel comes to me I see her eyes hold a deeper meaning and she turns to the maiden beside her to fetch my gift. I can fill a cold dawning of fear when she places a silver dagger into my hands, the handle carved with ivy and the short blade smooth and bright. For any of the fellowship it is merely in response to the fine gifts I have received before and the knife being small and elegantly crafted. All, except Boromir. I see him look to the Lady Galadriel and then back to me. I manage to find my voice.  
"I thank you, my Lady, for your gifts and all your care and guidance this past year. I hope we meet again."  
"As do I, Melusida." she says and her eyes gleam, I feel a shudder run through me.

We make our way up the river Anduin. The water is cold and crystal clear, yet as Hamnet and I row the water does not feel me with the same joy and delight as it once did. I cling steadily onto my oar and avoid looking down into the clear depths, though I do not know why I carry such fear. It is dark before we Aragorn decides to make camp. We come towards the bank and I get out, helping to pull the boats towards the shore, my leggings getting soaked in the process. Hamnet mutters something about this task not being fitting for ladies, but I ignore him.

"We shall set up camp here tonight and continue onwards in the morning." Aragorn says.  
I help Dòmhnall up with his boat and Pippen climbs out. I make it my work to pull the boats near the shore and secure them.  
"Did you ask the Lady Galadriel about the vision?" I had not heard Legolas come to my side.  
"Um…yes." I reply.  
"What did she believe it was about?"  
"Just about my ancestry, that's all. It is nothing important."  
"You said it was akin to being drown, why would a water goddess have trouble within the water?"  
"Look, honestly, it was nothing."  
Legolas gives me a strange look, but he does not pursue the matter.

I head back over to the rudimentary camp, Pippen and Merry are talking joyfully as usual, Sam is attempting to persuade Frodo to eat and Aragorn is talking to Boromir, their voices low and hasty. Legolas takes the watch and so I join my brothers, but I cannot help glancing up towards Boromir and Aragorn.  
"…I do not doubt the courage of your people…" Aragorn whispers.  
"You did not doubt the elves." Boromir's brow is furrowed.  
"To bring the Ring so close to…"  
"It may not be entirely safe, but we can regroup there, gain our strength again."  
"I would not risk it for…"  
I did not catch the rest of their conversation, as Sam handed me a plate of food.  
"Frodo, you should eat something." I said.  
The hobbit gave a shrug and kept his eyes trained on the ground.

I looked up to where Boromir and Aragorn argued in hush voices. I got up with the plate of food and walked towards them, I coughed slightly as I approached and they both turned to look at me, Boromir eyes were furtive.  
"Sam is right; it will do us no favours not to eat." I proffered the bowl, waiting for someone to take it.  
Boromir was the first to accept it and gruffly said, "I thank you." He went to the others and sat down.

"Why can we not go near Gondor?" I asked Aragorn.  
Aragorn gave a slight smile and looked back out, over the river, "You heard that?"  
"Yes and I guessed, it is often on Boromir's mind."  
"If we are kept in Minas Tirith for too long we lose the element of surprise, the enemy will know we are there and it would be easier for him to ensnare us. Both with bands of orcs and Denethor's mind."  
"What is wrong with his mind?" I asked.  
"The dark shadow of the East weakens his resolve, his temperament was never steady, but he is not an easy man to be around."

I frowned at Aragorn's worry, "You say a good deal with your eyes, but little with your tongue."  
He suddenly laughed at that, "Forgive me, you sounded so like Arwen then…"  
I smiled too, "I suppose it is something she would say. But tell me why you fear him?"  
"Denethor's mind paces from one thing to another, his favour does not fall upon the wisest or the bravest, but the one he prefers…"  
"You speak of Faramir?" I guessed.  
Aragorn shrugged, "Faramir is a good Captain, but his father sees little else but his brother's glory."  
"That is not Boromir's fault." I said evenly, Aragorn sighed and looked back to the camp, where Boromir was glumly talking to Hamnet.

"I fear there is too much of Denethor within Boromir, he is tempted by a power he does not understand…"  
"I know I am of little use, but I have seen I can soothe his temper and aid him with his desire. Keep me close to him and I shall do my best to prevent his father's will taking over his mind."  
Aragorn smiled and clasped my shoulder, "You think too little of yourself, you are no burden upon this fellowship."  
I know Aragorn will be a good king; I trust him instinctively and wonder if I can tell him what the Lady Galadriel told me, but I decide against it. Aragorn would probably tell my brothers out of fear for me and they would not stand for it. Especially Hamnet. It would make little difference, but they would probably insist on taking me back to Rivendell.

* * *

We continue up the river until we come to two statues I only heard about in the books of Lord Elrond, but I could not imagine they would be so tall. I crane my neck upwards to look at them, King Isildur and Anárion, their hands outstretched, fending off any enemy that dare threaten this land.  
"What do you think little sister?" Hamnet grins at me.  
"I did not expect…It is some sight." I smiled.  
I look over to Dòmhnall, who mirrors my expression, mouth agape and eyes wide with joy and awe.  
"This is some sight for us all." said Aragorn, "We go no further than here by boat, we must continue on foot."  
I still keep my boat near Boromir's one, as we make our way towards shore. A barrier between Aragorn's one with Frodo. I see Boromir's eyes change from anger to fear and helplessness as the boats scrape against the stones of the river bank.

While setting up the camp Domhnall approaches me.  
"What did Lady Galadriel say to you?"  
"About what?" I ask.  
"About the vision you had."  
"She told me not to worry about it…it was just a vision of Melusine."  
"I thought Melusine only came to us, if there was a death amongst our family."  
I shrug and pull out my flint to light the fire Dòmhnall has set up. I smile on hearing Merry and Pippen complaining about the emptiness of their stomachs, it is a favoured topic of theirs.

"Melusida, what did it mean?"  
"I do not know, some things are not meant to be understood."  
"But surely the Lady Galadriel understood…"  
"I did not ask her." I have grown too impatient with all these stares and fearful looks about me.  
His face grows horrified, "Why on earth not?"  
"Because it was not worth asking anyone about it, besides, she often says I must work it out for myself."  
"That is madness, why did you not go to her?" Dòmhnall asks.  
"Because I did not want to."  
"What if this affects us somehow?"  
"How does seeing water and the feeling of being drowned show us anything?" I reply.  
"That is why you should have gone to Lady Galadriel." he says, furiously.  
"Where's Frodo?" asks Pippen. I look up.  
"Mister Frodo?" Sam calls; his expression is already one of panic. I gently pat him on the shoulder.  
"Do not fear, he shall not have gone far." But as I look around I see Boromir is missing from the group. "Where is Boromir?" I ask, a note of panic now entering my own voice.  
"I thought he was with you." said Aragorn.  
"Never mind who he was meant to be with," Gimli says, "We need to find them both."

I make my way along the path, trying to hear or see any sign of them. A few broken twigs and bent leaves are all I have to go on, the rest of the wood is in silence. The craggy heaps of old stone buildings and brown pathways show little disturbance. I run up a small hill, pass several trees in their autumn tresses, make a turn to the right and nearly stumble into Boromir.  
"Boromir!" I say quickly, he turns to look at me and I recognise that frightened, dangerous look in his eyes.  
"Have you seen Frodo?" he asks at once.  
"No. What happened?"  
"I…I…" his eyes fill with fear.  
"What did you do?" I question at once, and though he dislikes the accusation I make, he looks ashamed.

"I tried to take it from him."  
I see he is shaking and something of tears form in his eyes.  
"It is alright, we will find him." I say consoling.  
"He does not trust me." Boromir murmurs.  
"No…there may be a good reason for that." I joke a little, but his face remains lost in agony.  
"I tried to kill him."  
I bite my lip.  
"Where did you see him last?"  
"I…I hardly know, we were over there," Boromir points to a small glade a small distance away, "And then I tried to…and then he put the ring on and ran off."  
"Frodo!" I call, though the woods remain silent. "Frodo, you are safe." I do not know if I can make such a confident claim, but I feel the tense air around Boromir loosen a little. Yet something stirs the air beyond us, the back of my neck prickles. I turn round to look upwards to the hill beyond us and the trees.

I recognised the black armour and twisted faces of my nightmares, the nightmares of my father's death. I drew out my sword, my hands gripping the cold metal of the handle, eyes keeping track of the orcs…though as I saw them, I realised they were far bigger and taller than normal orcs. My stomach clenched tightly and I felt a wave of bile wash up in my throat. I glanced a moment at Boromir, his eyes no longer holding that dark longing and he felt my gaze upon him. I saw his temptation to tell me to run back to the camp, but I gave a minute shake of my head. My eyes turned back to orcs, whatever they were it did not matter, their lips curled into foul smirks and snarls, their cries making me shiver. I let my anger burn me, remembered my father, the dead and mutilated corpse of my father.

My hands encircled the sword tighter. I saw the first one race towards me, his eyes gleaming with excitement on seeing a woman. A defenceless, easy woman. I allowed him no nearer, he was too slow on the uptake, too slow with his weapon and his head lay at my feet. Then we were overcome, it seemed a mass wave of orcs fell upon us so there were no times for thoughts, no time for anger or hatred. I fought fearing for my life and that of the fellowship. I ran further up the hill, knowing that on my feet an orc quickly followed me. Boromir had run up the hill before me, he now stood upon it. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up the rest of the way.

"Quickly, Merry and Pippen have called them away."  
"Why have you not summoned the others?" I pointed to his horn at his waist.  
"There was very little time," he gave something of a smile, then plunged his sword into an onrushing orc. "Go to the others…" he began.  
"Nay, I am not leaving you."  
"Melusida–"  
I reached for the horn, but he was too quick for me and raised the horn to his lips. I turned back to the orcs, hearing the strong blasts from the horn, calling for aid. It gave me something of strength, knowing my brothers, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli would be with us soon. I kept on fighting, remembering how my father had been killed, the oath I had made. When there was a break in their ranks I turned back to Boromir.  
"Go further on, I shall–"

I felt a quick, intense, burning pain enter below my lower ribs. I look down, seeing the arrow imbedded in my flesh. The grinning orc, his bow poised and another arrow ready on the string. I felt the arrow darkening my flesh. I ran towards him desiring him dead, hoping I would be quick enough, but I was not. Another jolt of pain hit me in my shoulder. But I kept on going.  
"Melusida!" I heard Boromir call, but continued running towards the orc. He was fitting another arrow to his string, but I stuck the monster like a pig. My anger burning into the blade of my sword. The orc pulled my sword's blade deeper into his wound. He gave me a foul smile, his eyes glinting and the blackened mouth pulled back to reveal yellow teeth.  
"Pretty, little girl...Foolish girl...We have done as Saruman asked, if we cannot have you, no one will." I gaped at him as his snarl and foul smell came nearer my face. I pulled the blade out and the orc fell at my feet.  
"What do you mean by that?"  
But he just laughed at me and fell forwards.

I turned back to Boromir, seeing my brothers and the fellowship run towards us. The pain suddenly became intense and I dropped to my knees. I could not breathe or see. I was going to die. The pain would be over soon. I gently fingered the arrow shafts, debating whether to pull them from my flesh. It would probably be easier for someone else to do when I was dead. The thought made me laugh, pain making the laughter rasp against my lungs.  
"Melusida!"  
Dòmhnall ran over to me. His hands trembled as he touched the arrows. I touched his forehead, my own eyes filling with tears as I saw his.  
"Don't weep, brother. I would not have you weep."

I was still hearing the cries and call of battles, the clash of swords and hiss of Legolas bow, Gimli's battles cries and the strike of his axe. I kept my eyes on my younger brother, I tried to keep myself upright, but I could no longer do so when the pain became too much and I pitched forward into Dòmhnall's arms. He lay me gently on the ground and stayed by my side. I listened to the sound of his bow, knowing he had always been a better shot than I and perhaps slightly quicker when running.  
"I was not quick enough." I said, but he did not hear me.

* * *

I drifted in and out of conscience, but when I finally came round, I saw Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas and Hamnet gathered around me. I heard Aragorn say something to Hamnet, but could not make out the words. I had such an intense longing for my mother that I no longer cared. I knew I called out for her and I saw Hamnet beginning to weep. Boromir gripped his shoulder tightly.  
"There must be something we can do, Dòmhnall and I will take her back to Lothlórien, the healing arts there…"  
"Don't be foolish Hamnet; there is no time for that. You must go onward, there is no time." I said.  
I saw him grip tightly onto his sword and stare fixedly down at the ground.  
"But you will at least depart me properly?"  
Dòmhnall nodded and Hamnet let go of the sword, he held onto my hand tightly, his tears falling. I reached my hand up to wipe them away.  
"Don't worry, don't worry. I will see Melusine again. I will see her again." I smiled up at them and saw them share a look. My lungs laboured for air.  
"In my pack are mother's reading cards, her books, the Lady Galadriel's mirror…make sure a girl of our family gets them." I said.  
"Melusida…" Hamnet began, but I got up, resting on my elbow, and grabbed his cloak.  
"Please make sure she gets them and you will tell her. I care not whether you believe me or not, please give them to her."

I rested back on the ground and Aragorn gently cleaned my sword and put it back in my sheath. I felt my tears on my cheeks again.  
"Hush, you saved us all, including Frodo. There has been no braver among us than you."  
"I failed you and Boromir." I managed.  
"You did not." Boromir said, clasping my shoulder, "If you had not come for me, I would have been dead. Or worse…Frodo would have been."  
"I…" the words were getting caught in my throat.  
"Hush."  
"How can this be the end?" Dòmhnall whispered.  
I smiled, "I shall be with Her, as father and mother are."  
"May you go with Melusine and be in peace." Hamnet says.

I closed my eyes, I felt so heavy resting against the earth. It felt as though I could be swallowed up by it. The pain was ebbing away and I felt a delirious sense of both physical heaviness and lightness within my mind. Oh I was dying and dying felt wonderfully good. I fell away from the earth, from light, from my brothers and the fellowship. I sunk under a cooling blanket, where my body was no longer drenched in sweat and the air became lighter.  
"You are willing to go?" the Lady Galadriel asked.  
"Aye, I am more than willing. I am content." I replied.

* * *

So it seems I have killed off my main character and narrator...whoops! This chapter proved difficult to write, but it is how I wanted it to end up, I think I am on roughly the sixth draft of this chapter alone. Creepily, as this is chapter 13, in the Tarot the Death card is number 13. Trust me, I only realised this after finishing the first draft of this chapter (so I got quite excited by this); plus I tend to let my stories write themselves (if that makes sense) and so I had no intention to kill off Melusida at first.

I am nervous about what you guys think of this, so if you like it tell me, if you don't I'll try to rewrite it. But in terms of narrative structure, I do think Melusida dying is necessary - it took me a long time of debating whether to let Boromir live or not.

Love 1607hannah xxx


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen  
_The Knight of Swords_

She looks peaceful in death, her skin pale against the blue grey of her tunic. Her hair spread out, darkness making her skin glow almost. Her brothers had taken the arrows from her chest, Gimli had attempted to place them in the boat with her, but Hamnet angrily threw them out. His look of disgust and grief was enough to break any man's soul. Dòmhnall stood by her pack, his face looked lost and empty, he was lost without his sister.

"What happened?" asked Aragorn to me.  
"Uruk-hai came upon us, we had no time to summon you…I…I was tempted by the ring, more strongly than ever…I tried to kill Frodo, but he ran before I could do anything to harm him…"  
"He is long gone now." Aragorn says. "What happened with Melusida?"  
"She found me, stopped me from…Then the Uruk-hai came and we were fighting for our lives."  
"You are not to blame for her death." Aragorn consoles me, but it feels more like an accusation than anything else.  
"I am close enough to it." I mutter.  
"The deaths of our friends should be blamed upon our enemies." Legolas comes to my side.  
"You know that is not true, if I had not been tempted then she…" I look back to the boat, my voice dulling in realisation, "Then she would not have died."  
"That is difficult to say when there were so many orcs." Legolas says, but his eyes gives him away, he blames me somewhat for it and rightly so.

"Boromir, your horn."  
Gimli hands me the horn, cleaved in two. I looked down at it, the inheritance of my forefathers. Cut when an Uruk-hai swung his sword at it, to prevent me calling upon them again. I look at the strange girl in the boat. I never really knew who she was, but I knew her presence helped released a little of the fear and hated I felt. I put the horn in the boat beside her, it is a weak tribute to her soul and remembrance, but there is little I can do. I knew her not, yet the grief I hold back for the sake of her brothers fills my soul with an intense pain that I can barely look at her face. It is my fault she is dead. Hamnet gestures to me, the sign of respect. I bow to him and his sister.  
"It is a noble gesture paid to my sister." Hamnet says, I grasp his shoulder.  
"I am in your family's debt."  
But Hamnet shakes his head, "Nay, talk not of that. She would not have wanted that. Besides my family betrayed yours and now my sister…" he stops and looks back to the boat.  
"She was a good and brave lady." says Legolas.

I hear Dòmhnall fall to his knees and his deep sobs. I turn to see Aragorn beside him, gently holding his shoulders.  
"She was much more than that." Dòmhnall says.  
"We cannot tarry here too long; we must send your sister off and find Merry and Pippen." Aragorn says.  
Hamnet gets up, he seems angry at Aragorn's suggestion.  
"Melusida deserves a fitting burial."  
"And so we shall give her one, but we must not allow time to go against us."  
I am tempted to beg Aragorn for a little time for her brothers, but his eyes forbid that and guilt keeps my mouth shut.

Dòmhnall suddenly seems to snap out of his revere and makes his way to the boat, he unwraps the cloak around her shoulders and places it around her waist, it does not reach down to her feet. He places the horn in her hands, her elven bow at her side with its quiver.  
"Hamnet, it is not right. It is not right for her to die here." Dòmhnall suddenly says. Hamnet comes to his side.  
"Were I to decide, Melusida would die warm in her bed."  
"The Lady Galadriel would have spoken of it."  
Hamnet suddenly looks to the river and the boat, "Melusida's vision. She said she felt as though she was drowning."  
"That had nothing to do with…" Dòmhnall says.  
"It happened to her, she was drowning, dying."

Hamnet pulls out the mirror, the cards and the books she had in her pack. I do not know why she wished to take such objects with her, they would have been weighty enough to carry.  
"I wish for no child of mine to have this mirror." Hamnet says, he gives it to his brother. I see Dòmhnall visibly shudder.  
"Nor I."  
Hamnet hands Dòmhnall the cards, he puts them in his pack and then Hamnet picks up the books. The mirror is left, gleaming in the sun. I almost think it ripples, but I shake my head to clear away the thought.  
"Perhaps we should give it back to the Lady Galadriel?" suggests Dòmhnall, but Hamnet frowns.  
"It was Melusida's; we shall leave it with her."  
They put it in the boat beside her, in the crook of her arm, so it reflects the curve of her hand and the clear sky above.

The two men bring the boat out into the open water. We wait on the bank, Gimli coughs slightly.  
"I had hoped to be spared another death, so soon." he says.  
"And to one so young." murmurs Legolas.  
Aragorn says nothing, his hand remains resting on his sword and he bows his head in respect.  
As Hamnet and Dòmhnall wait with the boat, I see Hamnet's shoulders shaking and then Dòmhnall starts to sing. It feels as though the whole river falls silent, apart from Hamnet's sobs and even Dòmhnall's own voice falters with the song.

_He was young,  
and he rode along the river,  
raven haired;  
the fairest thing to grace those steady banks,  
In ages come and lost forever._

_And power laid upon him,  
Like a thousand secrets she would never know,  
and so she spoke;_

_In the lapping of the land,  
golden tongued,  
her whispers fickle jewels among the sands,  
ephemeral and softly spoken._

_But he was wiser than years,  
and shed his hooves to meet her there,  
among the reeds,  
where earth recedes._

So there he stood,  
As the silt caressed the bottoms of his feet,  
circles formed;  
growing outward,  
drawing inward,  
gaining strength and going homeward,  
in the trumpeting of swans,  
in lilies laced upon a pond.  
She rose before him like the ice before the spring,  
and was a queen.

_And their touch was like a lover's,  
clear and sweet,  
drenching and enfolding,  
with no need for air or sunlight in the deep._

_And in the passions that they bared,  
In pledges won and secrets shared,  
they'd stand together in what destiny would bring,  
and crown a King._

They let the boat go and I wept; knowing I had killed her. She had died to save me, to save Gondor and the King. That had been her fate, that had been her destiny. I wondered how many had lied to her, how many had convinced her it was something greater, something more noble than that. I remembered when I had first seen her, mistaking her for an Elleth, though puzzled by her dark hair amidst all those silver and golden-haired elves. The boat grew nearer the edge and I turned my back from it, not wishing to watch it fall, knowing that somehow it would hurt.

* * *

Think I've definitely made some panic with my last chapter, sorry scarlet tribe and the guests I've had who've commented. But fear not, I have another evil plan up my sleeve! :D And who knows, we could potentially be seeing an old friend very soon! ;)


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

_Tell me where fore is Melusine of old?  
Lying dead and cold?  
Nay, you'll find her hidden among streams,  
in valleys, in ponds,  
in hills, in dreams._

_She'll come to her people, knowing and wise,_  
_Her descendants of voices, visions and lies,_

_And now tell me of Melusida,_  
_Where lies she?_  
_Among her people, amongst their dreams._

_She lies dead and old?  
Nay, she walks among the living,  
Her skin pale and gold._

_Listen to rivers, listen to streams,  
Therein lies Melusida,  
The Lady of the Lake.  
The Woman of Water.  
The Daughter of Dreams._

It is a strange thing. I lie in this boat, knowing that I am me, but not knowing who that person really is. I know this is a boat and this is what people do when they die, but I am not certain how I know that or why I lie in a boat. I know that while I slept my mother came to me, all the woman of our household came to my side and they drowned me. Forcing me under the water, the broken horn clasped in my hand and the mirror kept tightly by my side. I was under the water, the rush filling my ears and the cool blueness making my eyes sting. But I kept my eyes open till I grew use to the coldness.

I knew I saw Her, her pale hands and her hair snaking like dark water weed, she lifted me up into the boat. My Goddess-Mother pulled herself above the boat and looked down upon me, the clothes I wore drenched to my skin.  
"Neither immortal nor mortal, human, elf or witch. I give you life, my daughter." she lowered her head and gave me a kiss to my forehead. I felt a warmth running through my core, reaching into my fingertips, the soreness of my chest disappearing.  
"Why am I not dead?" I asked.  
She gave a loud, ringing laugh and softly touched my cheek. She smiled and then slipped back into the water and I felt my eyes drift close again.

* * *

"Captain!" I heard someone call, but I felt too warm and content to open my eyes. I knew hands came upon my boat and begin to pull me to shore. I gave something of a groan, half desiring for them to let me go and continue onwards to the sea.  
"By Valar, she is alive!"  
"How is that possible? She's as pale as death."  
I cautiously opened my eyes. The river banks were different, less lusher and greener, but then Lothlórien had always been different. Lothlórien…I mused, I knew that place well. I looked up to the men pulling the boat into shore. They wore dark greenish cloaks, most of their clothing made up of dark wool, apart from the leather garments. I seem to find all parts of their clothing fascinating, as though I had never seen it before. They had swords at their sides and quivers on their backs. The man with dark hair caught me looking at him.  
"What is your name?" he asked, but I was too weary for names.

I heard the crunch of stones of the river bank and another man came towards us, I heard his boots on the ground and then his face hovered above my own. His light grey eyes travelled over my form, until they rested on the horn and a look of horror filled his eyes.  
"Where did you get this?" he asked.  
I had no words for that, I could not remember. He tried to take it from my hands, but I clung on tighter to it. If I had it, I must have it for some reason and he was not going to be the one to take it. The young man's eyes grew somewhat desperate.  
"Please, that is my brother's."

My eyes shot upwards towards his face, taking in his appearance. Light reddish, golden hair, a small, neat beard and grey eyes. There was something familiar in his face, but staring up at him was making me feel sick. I shut my eyes. I felt his hand encircle the horn again, but what little strength I had I put in holding the horn tightly to my chest. It was too much for me though, he wrenched it from my fingers. I had no energy for long, eloquent pleas. I began to cry and the man kneeled beside me.  
"Please tell me where you got this, who gave it to you?"  
"I don't know." I managed to say.  
"I know this horn; it belonged to my brother, Boromir. Did he know of you?"  
"Give it back to me." I beg, tears hurting my eyes. But the man clasps it tightly to his chest.  
"Tell me what you know of him." he says.  
"I know not of Boromir–" But a blinding flash of light fills my eyes and head and I see him. I see Boromir. He stands tall on the hill, wielding his sword against the enemy. "He is dead." I find myself saying, though I hardly know whether it is true or not. I open my eyes, seeing the river and the soldiers gathered.

"How did you come by this?" the man asks.  
"I…I don't remember."  
He sighs and his eyes fill with grief, I would sit up and comfort him, but I have no strength to raise myself.  
"How did you end up like this?" he gestures to the boat. I feel my lip wobbling; I curse myself for acting like a child, but my helplessness frightens me.  
"I don't remember."  
I clasp the smooth pale greenness of the boat, my hands curling over the edge.  
"Do you have a name?"  
I nod.  
"Well…?"  
I bite my lip again, "I don't…"  
"Oh for–" one of the soldier's exclaims, impatient with my forgetfulness, but the Captain hushes him.  
"My name is Faramir; you knew something of my brother, Boromir. If you had a name, what would it be?"  
I think for a while, gazing upwards at the blue sky overhead. I finally decided upon a name, though I did not know if it was my own.  
"Nyneve."

Faramir nodded and then turned to his men, "Send some ahead to Minas Tirith, but do not tell my father yet of what we know, it would be better if I told him myself. Nyneve will need some rest before we travel. Tell him his youngest son knows something of his oldest."  
The dark haired soldier bowed to him and then ran back up the bank, disappearing into the bushes and trees.  
"Do you think you can walk?" Faramir asked me.  
"No, sir. I am sorry I cannot be of more use."  
He shakes his head, "You bring dark tidings with you, but such matters cannot be helped, these are dark times."  
"I am sorry about your brother, I know I have brothers." I said.  
"You know their names or where they live?"  
I regretfully shake my head, "Nay, I just know one was dark and younger than I, and the other fair and older."  
"That could be many men in Gondor who fit such a description." he gives me a weak smile and then puts his arm around my shoulder and the other under my legs, he lifts me up from the boat. My head lolls back, it feels far too heavy and the movement makes me feel dizzy. I close my eyes again.  
"You cannot remember how you came here?" Faramir asks.  
I shake my head, "I just remember the water and Her."  
"Her?"  
"The Lady of the Rivers." I murmur, thinking of her dark beauty, her eyes once blue then green then grey, like sea water.  
"The Lady of the Rivers? Who is that?"  
"Melusine." I whisper, drifting slowly to sleep.

When I wake I find myself in a cave, I can see the mouth of it off to the right, the rush of a waterfall as it falls past the opening. When I look downwards to my left the cave stretches ever onwards, disappearing into passageways and rooms almost. I am on a small camp bed, covered with my green cloak. Candles are lit on crates and a rudimentary table, covered in pieces of parchment, presumably letters and maps. Faramir sits opposite me, examining the arrows in his quiver. He glances up at me, puts down the quiver and then brings forward a bowl and cup.  
"Are you hungry? Can you eat?"  
He gives me the bowl, filled with a warm stew, but I feel my stomach churn when I taste some and I push it away quickly.  
"Sorry." I mutter, feeling ashamed that I am wasting good food and doubtless these soldiers miss the comforts of hot food and warm beds.

Faramir gives me a comforting smile, "No matter, I'm sure many would lose their appetite when coming down the river Anduin."  
He hands me the cup and then rummages around in a sack, before bringing out an apple. I cautiously take a bite, but I feel it is safer than the rich stew. I take a sip of water and Faramir brings out the horn again, wrapped in brown sacking. I feel a lump forming in my throat and busy myself with the cup of water, not wanting to look at it.  
"If you remember anything of my brother, please tell me." I hear the tension in his own voice.  
I try to remember, but all I have is the image of his brother with his sword.  
"He fought with me, I know that. He fought by my side."  
"You know how to fight?"  
"Yes, my brother taught me and the Elves."  
"The Elves?"  
"I know I say some things that are true, but I cannot remember why they are true or why I say them. I knew your brother and I know that my family put people in boats when they die…so I must have died."  
"But you are here."  
I nod, "I cannot fathom it."

Faramir frowns and then points to the mirror in my hands, they have covered that also.  
"We tried to take that away from you while you slept, but you would not let us."  
"It is important. It was a gift."  
"The men are frightened of it." Faramir says.  
"Men are frightened of many things they do not understand."  
His eyebrow raises questioningly at me. I shrug and take another bite of the apple.  
"How do you use it?" he says.  
"You look into it."  
"For what purpose?"  
I look up to his eyes, they seem honest enough, but whether he will believe me is another matter.  
"For scrying."  
"For a young woman, who cannot have seen more than twenty summers, I am surprised you show no fear of it."  
"Nineteen, I am nineteen…"  
"And you know this how, Nyneve?"  
I shrug again, "It is not something to fear if you know how to use it."  
"Can you use it now?"  
I look down at the ugly brown cloth covering the mirror, I know it to be beautiful, but I recall someone speaking about it, "I am not to use it when I feel weak, she told me that."  
"She? Melusine?"  
"Nay."  
"I will not ask who, for your face tells me you do not know."

He gets up from where he was crouching and walks back over to the table, "Once you are rested a little and have a little strength, you are to come with me to Minas Tirith. My father will wish to speak with you."  
I feel a shudder of fear run through me when I hear him speak of Minas Tirith and his father, though I know not what and who they are.  
"Minas Tirith?" I ask.  
He turns back to look at me, "Yes, the capital of Gondor. You know of it?"  
I nod, "I know I should not go there, I should not even be in Gondor."  
He looks at me strangely, "Why? And do not say you don't know, guess at it."  
I open my mouth and then think, why do I fear this land? Why do I fear Minas Tirith?  
"The darkness, the Shadow." I reply.  
I see his eyes grow fearful.  
"Gain your strength and try to remember all that you can, we must go to Minas Tirith soon, my father shall not wait."

He marches out of the cave. I pull my knees up to my chest and rest against the cold stone of the cave. I would rather stay in this cave for ever than see any city, capital or no. I think I could run away. But when I try to get up I stagger and fall back to the bed. A fine idea that would be and where would I run to? I have no idea of where I am or where anything else is. I look over to the maps on the table. I will attempt to walk again tomorrow, if any of these men have a horse I could steal it and…Why am I running? What am I running from? The Shadow…? I will be a threat to Minas Tirith if I stay, but I am too weak to prevent Faramir's insistence that I should come with him. I will try to tell him when I see him again.

"Where is Captain Faramir?" I ask one of the soldiers who comes in for rest. He has dark hair like many of the other soldiers, cut to his shoulders and a small beard like Faramir. He strips himself of his cloak and then pulls the sleeve of his shirt up to reveal a cut on his arm. He pulls out some strips of material from one of the crates and begins to attend to it.  
"He will not be back before nightfall, band of orcs." he grunts to me.  
"I need to speak with him."  
"Don't we all?" mutters the man, I glare at him.  
"This is important, I…"  
"More important than guarding our land?"  
"Your land will not be worth guarding if I remain here."  
The soldier gives something of a laugh, "It is barely worth guarding as it is, orcs, the threat of Mordor, I am certain you won't make much difference."  
He cleans the wound and then begins to tightly wrap some of the material around the injury.

"If I go to Minas Tirith I will."  
He gives another laugh, "You have no say in the matter, Faramir's father is a cold man, he will not care for any maiden's qualms. Besides, we have a few questions that need answering."  
"Like what?"  
"Where are you from? Who is your family? What do you know of the Lord Boromir's death."  
"Rivendell…"  
The soldier's eyes instantly look up at mine, "Rivendell? A human from Rivendell? I confess many of the men thought you an Elf when they first saw you, but no human lives in Rivendell."  
"The King's line sometimes lives in Rivendell."  
"Ha!" the soldier snorted, "The King's line is good as dead, whoever the king is, he will not come back for us."

I saw him struggle with the knot, I felt strangely pitying of this man, how can anyone lose such hope? The king must return.  
"If you come over here, I can tie that." I said. "I cannot walk."  
The man looked as if he would refuse, but then came over, clasping the bandages.  
"How tight should I make it?" I asked.  
"I'll tell you when it's tight enough."  
I pulled the material closer around his arm, pulling it tauter until he nodded and I finished the knot.

"You lose hope for the King?" I asked.  
"If he has not returned now, when will he?"  
"I know of the King's name, when he was in hiding, he was called Estel. It is Sindarin, it means…"  
"Hope. Yes, I know a little Sindarin; I was among the Rangers of the North and lived near Rivendell for a while. But how can you know of…?"  
I shrugged, "I do not know, but there you are, you say humans do not come near the Elves, yet you lived there."  
"It was only near Rivendell, not in it." he got up and flexed his arm a little, before picking up his bow again.  
"Are your family still there?" I asked.  
He stopped for a moment and picked up his quiver, "Nay. They are dead, killed by orcs."  
"Oh… Hiro hyn hîdh ab 'wanath."  
The soldier nodded curtly and gave a grim smile.

"I thank you for your sympathies. I assume you do not know how you know of the King."  
"Nay, but if I know of him, that is surely some hope?"  
"A girl who has forgotten all, and was found near dead in a funeral boat, tells me to hope?"  
"Aye, for what else is there to live for, soldier?"  
He shrugs, "My name is Cobryn, and yours?"  
"Nyneve…at least, I think it is."  
He smiled a little more then, "It must be a strange thing, to lose the very being of the self."  
I nodded, "See, I have lost everything, you have only lost hope and I believe that can be found again."  
He nodded, "Perhaps you are right, but I am certain your memories will return."  
"And the King." I said.  
He gave another smile, but it was less reluctant, more at ease. He then walked from the cave, back outside, whether to join the battle or the other men who waited there I knew not. I rested back on the bed and fell asleep again, the shortest conversations exhausted me.

* * *

I blearily awoke to the men swiftly packing up what was in the caves. I must have slept through the evening and the night. Cobryn came over to me.  
"We have little time to talk, eat and then ready yourself for the journey."  
He handed me some bread and another apple, my stomach felt a little more settled this time so I ate hungrily and drank the water near my bed. I still felt a little shaky on my legs, but managed to crawl away from my bed so they could pack it up. Cobryn brought my cloak over and he studied the clasp.  
"This is finely made, Elven?" he said.  
"Yes."  
He wrapped the cloak around my shoulders and as his eyes caught hold of mine, I somehow recognised him. I frowned in puzzlement, I had known his face…it had been younger, softer. My fingers nearly went to his cheek, a desire to smooth away that look of worry, those cares on his brow.  
"What is it?" Cobryn asked, but I shook my head.  
"Nothing."

He helped me up before carrying me from the cave's mouth, where a waterfall fell down into a dazzling pool beneath. The bright sunshine made me squint my eyes against the glare. Outside several armed guards on horses waited, Faramir with them.  
"I have a safe path ready for us, Madril you will stand in my stead," he said to one of the soldiers, whose hair was greying, but who bowed respectfully to Faramir. "Lady Nyneve, I hope you will not mind travelling with Cobryn, but we must ride apace."  
"I do not mind." I replied.  
Cobryn helped me up into the saddle, before swinging himself into it and sitting comfortably behind me. Cobryn rode his horse beside Faramir.

"My Lord, why do you suggest she is a lady?"  
"What do you mean?" Faramir asked.  
"You called her Lady Nyneve, how do we know she bears such a title?"  
"A guess, although her hands do not bear resemblance to those of the ladies of court, her skin elsewhere is pale and soft. The clothes she wears are of a fine material not seen in these lands." Faramir caught my gaze, "And of course, her eyes. Perhaps she has been amongst the elves for her eyes hide many secrets and it seems the dark ages of pasts are within them."  
I looked away, feeling something akin to fear and shame. Faramir nudged his horse forward.  
"Lord Faramir, I beg you not to take me to Minas Tirith. I know not why I fear such a place, but I am not safe, if I enter the city I will not bring any blessings upon it."

He turned to look at me and I saw several of the men raise their eyebrows at me and smirk somewhat. Faramir's face remained impassive.  
"I am afraid I must, my father wishes to speak to you, the death of a son is not an easy thing to bear and he will have many questions for you."  
He turned round and ordered his men onward; I gripped tightly onto the saddle of the horse, trying to hide my tears and to remain in the saddle, for we soon were galloping across the land. Whoever Faramir's father was he wanted to see me and soon, though I did not know if I could provide all the answers to his questions.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

"My lord, I believe Nyneve should rest at the houses of healing, before seeing Lord Denethor." Cobryn says.  
"Oh yes?" Faramir looks up to him, we are going through Cair Andros I have learnt and so we are resting a little there, I nervously wrap my cloak round my shoulders. I am gaining strength, but the journey still wearies me a little and it cannot be too easy to die and then be reborn.  
"You have never been one for pity, Cobryn. Does this girl stir your heart?"  
Cobryn flinches, "No, my lord. But I would not risk seeing your father on an empty stomach and weakened through illness and injury. I would wish that upon no one."  
Faramir smiles and finishes his dinner, "You would let her rest, while I face my father and his ill temper. Come now, Cobryn, speak frankly with me. The men praise and curse your determined speech."  
Cobryn gives a weary smile, "I do not relish the opportunity any more than you do. If she has spoken truthfully, and Boromir is dead, your father's anger will not be easy to bear, for you and her."  
Faramir nods carefully, I swirl the soup in my bowl with my spoon.

I hate the way they treat me, they either act like I am not there and speak over my head, or some of the men give me desirous looks. I cannot say whether they mean it or no, I once caught my reflection in the water and was pleased with what I saw, there is no denying that. Smooth skin like ivory and dark curling hair, my hands had lingered over my mouth, the plump, softness of my lips delighting me. I knew it was vain and foolish, but I was fascinated with what I saw. It was more of a study than any pleasurable vanity. I had forgotten what I looked like. I chose the river to look in though; I did not wish to look into the mirror. I had not unwrapped it from its sacking since arriving.

It was still morning when we arrived at Minas Tirith and I felt my mouth drop open at the grandeur and beauty of the place. White stone stretching upwards, the domes of buildings giving everything a graceful curve amongst all that cold rock. The sunlight gleamed on the rooftops and walls, giving it a golden shine.  
"You always need someone who is new to Minas Tirith, to appreciate the beauty and splendour of this city." Cobryn says.  
But again I have that ache of remembrance, of knowing this place. As we approach it and the gates swing open before us, I have a strange dream like sensation of visiting the place before.  
"Perhaps I have been here before, I remember this place." I said to Cobryn.  
"Perhaps there will be some who know you then." Cobryn replies.

Though as we journey and I scan all the faces gathered in the market places or sitting near fountains and in gardens, journeying to work or talking with one another, I do not recognise a soul. In truth it is difficult with people leaping away from the horses and our quick pace up to the higher levels, but I feel certain I would recognise someone, someone I had vaguely met before. An innkeeper or baker, someone I had passed in the street or met once on occasion.  
"It is very noisy." I say.  
"It is a city."  
"But it was so quiet before."  
"Quiet?" Cobryn says, "You must be confused, even with the shadow looming, it is rarely quiet."

We journey upwards, until we reach a stable and I climb down from the horse, a little weak after our quick pace here from Cair Andros, but certainly better than our time spent in the caves. Faramir walks towards Cobryn and I, he studies me intently.  
"I do not think there is any reason for you to go to the houses of healing; a good meal and bath should be all that is needed."  
I nod and he calls a serving maid forward, she has dark hair tied back and dark eyes, she keeps them lowered and gives me a short curtsey. She cannot be any older than I.  
"This is Laredith she will serve you while you are here. This is the Lady Nyneve. If you can show her to her rooms and then prepare her a bath that would be most helpful. You are to give her anything you ask for."  
Laredith nods and then Faramir turns back to me, "I must speak with my father. This will probably be the last time you have the horn, he will wish to keep it."  
I long to keep it for myself, but I understand Lord Denethor's need to keep the horn. Faramir tenderly unwraps the horn from its cloth and I reach out towards it. I feel the smoothness of it within my palm, the elegant engravings rough under my fingertips. Faramir then takes it from me, wraps it up again, bows and walks off.

Laredith also goes to leave the stable, before turning back to see I am not following her.  
"My Lady?" she says.  
"You will not come with us?" I ask Cobryn.  
He shakes his head and takes off the saddle of his horse, "Nay. You have no need of me and it would look strange."  
"Strange?"  
He gives me a pointed look and I almost flinch, "A soldier entering the room of a maid? Aye, very strange."  
"Then I shall bid you farewell Cobryn, Namárië."  
He looks up at me, "That is not Sindarin."  
"I know." I shrug and then follow Laredith from the stable.

"Have you always lived in Minas Tirith?" I asked her, wanting to have some form of conversation.  
"Yes, my lady."  
"Please, I do not need such a title. Lord Faramir merely suggests I am of some rank, according to the quality of my skin."  
Laredith smiles somewhat and nods, "I was right in hearing your name is Nyneve?"  
"Yes, well that is the name I have given myself."  
"Given yourself?"  
"I cannot remember anything, apart from being swept down the river. Well…I can remember some details, but not everything. It is complicated."  
"It is just Nyneve reminds me of a story, I believe…I cannot recall what happened in it, I will have to ask my mother on my day off." Laredith says.  
We walk in silence for a little while, through the grand passageways of the mountain's palace, I barely have time to look at the pictures on the walls, the fine tapestries and statues gathered in hallways.  
"Is Lord Faramir of some rank then?" I ask.  
Laredith has a moment of both confusion and near laughter, "Only a little rank! His father is the Steward of Gondor; Faramir is the Captain of the Ithilien Rangers. My sister is to marry…"

I have that sudden white, blinding light course through my mind and it sends a sharp pain through my spine. I see a young, fair haired woman ahead in the passageway standing with a man. She wears a dark blue dress, slashed through with a lighter shade and embroidered with silver thread. He wears a dark grey tunic and breeches, his curls almost black in colour, reaching his neck. I see the anger and lust burning in his eyes for her; he pushes her against the wall. She is too quick for him and strikes him savagely across the face, before running down the hallway. The young man lets out a savage groan before turning towards me, his eyes seem half mad and they burn into me.  
"No." I scream, "No, not the Eye."  
I shut my own, but I can still see the red flamed eye, seeking me out in these dark passages.  
_'Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul.'_ The voice was whispering and screaming in my mind, both at once terrifying loud and chillingly quiet. It was a language I could not understand and yet did, '_You are so close to me, so close, daughter of mine. Your heart longs for the heat and flame of darkness. Turn aside from the water and weakness of your past. Regain what you long for.'_

"My Lady?"  
I cautiously peek my eyes open; Laredith and Cobryn stand over me. I look about me; I am in a bed, the evening light giving a pearly greyness to the room. I smell a mixture of herbs and fresh bed linen, something sweet. Laredith helps me sit up and gives me a goblet to drink from. There is a knock on the door and Faramir swiftly enters, before we have even called out to him.  
"What happened?" Faramir says to us all, "I have only just been allowed to leave my father. Thank you Cobryn for telling me."  
Cobryn bows his head.  
"How is your father?" I ask nervously, but Faramir shakes his head.  
"You will speak of what happened first."  
"We were walking along the hall, talking–" says Laredith.  
"About what?" Faramir says.  
"About Minas Tirith and your father. Nyneve did not know who he was."  
Faramir frowns, but nods for her to continue.  
"Nyneve stopped and looked ahead, it was as though she recognised someone standing there, but there was no one. Then she…"  
"Well?" asks Faramir.  
"She screamed…I have never…It was horrible."  
"There were many who heard it, some compare it to the howls of the Ringwraiths." Cobryn said, his forehead furrowed with worry.  
"Then I ran to fetch Cobryn, who carried her to the houses of healing and that is how we ended up here." Laredith finished.

Faramir turned to look at me, "And you? What happened?"  
"I saw…I saw my…When Laredith spoke of your father, I saw my mother and him at the end of the corridor."  
Faramir frowned, "Your mother? My father was with me…"  
"He was younger and so was my mother." I griped the blanket tightly in my hand, "He tried to…he tried to ravage her."  
Faramir leaned back, "How is that possible?"  
"I know not."  
"Why did you scream?"  
I look down to my hands, feeling my tears well up, the unimaginable horror of what I saw. The Eye burning me, burning into me.  
"What did you see?" Faramir asks again, I look up to their worried faces, all leaning in towards me.  
"The Eye. The Eye." I whisper, "It spoke to me, it knew of me. It knows I am here. It told me it saw me."  
Faramir spends some time in thought, Laredith still kneels at my side, Cobryn seems content to watch us all, but it is as though he is waiting for a command. Finally Faramir snaps out of his thoughts.  
"We must go to my father, dress quickly and then follow Cobryn to the main hall. We will speak with you there, then we must find a way to have you gone from Gondor. We must take you to Rohan at least or perhaps to Lothlórien."

Cobryn waits for us outside, while Laredith helps me into a light green gown. I know it is not as fine as some that I have worn, but that does not matter. She quickly passes a brush through my hair and then braids it away from my face. She suddenly clicks her fingers, as though in remembrance.  
"Nyneve. My mother preferred to call her Nimeuh, but my Grandmother called her Nyneve."  
"Who?" I ask.  
"The Lady of the Lake, in the great stories. She comes under many names, many disguises. It is said she stole the child Lancelot from his mother and she entranced a great wizard. Fancy you choosing that name, perhaps you remembered it from your own childhood, seeing as you were found in the river."  
"Perhaps." I said, I think in some ways she is right, but in others she is wrong.  
Cobryn impatiently taps on the door, "This is no time for reminiscing."  
I get up and open the door, he takes a step back and then points down the passage.  
"This way."  
I fall beside him as we walk down the hall and then up a flight of stairs. Laredith follows closely behind us.

Faramir waits for us in the hall, but I have barely any time to examine the white stone and black tiles, or the statues in every archway. My gaze finds its way to an older man sitting at the end of a long table. He holds Boromir's horn, his back hunched and his face staring down to it. He takes no heed of our entrance.  
"Father." Faramir says to the man, who slowly looks up at us. His face is a contorted mess of rage and grief. I drop to my knees at once. His hard grey eyes stare at me.  
"I am sorry, my Lord, that I bring these unhappy tidings to your house and your country."  
"So you are the girl I am to replace Boromir with?" he says coldly.  
I look up confused, "I never said I would take his place. Believe me, my Lord, I am heartily sorry. I know I have lost those I love; I know my mother and father rest with their ancestors."  
He looks back towards the horn in his lap.  
"Losing a parent is not the same as losing a child."  
"I realise that, but–"  
"How did you come upon this horn?"  
"I know not." I gape at the man before me, in almost every way a king, yet so cold and angry.  
"Did your people take it? Did they murder him and then lay you to rest with it?"  
"No, my Lord. What I remember of Boromir was that he was brave and noble, I know we were attacked and he fought alongside me."  
"Alongside you?" the Steward snarls.  
"Yes, I know how to wield a sword." I show him my hands, with all their manner of nicks and cuts.  
"Captain Faramir has told me much about you and what you have claimed, how can we believe any of it to be true?"

I stare in horror at him and about to say that it is the true, but then reconsider. I barely know myself. I know not if I have spoken the truth.  
"Father, she spoke of how she was a danger to Gondor, that she should not be here. Then on the way to her rooms Nyneve saw the Eye of Sauron in a vision."  
Lord Denethor regards his son critically, "I did not ask for your version of events, Faramir. I am speaking to Nyneve."  
"But he is right." I said, Lord Denethor's eyes swivel back to my own, this is not a Lord who is used to being questioned, "I am a danger to your people and your land. I must go and quickly, it is not right for me to stay."  
"If we send Nyneve to Rohan then perhaps we can see if Boromir is with them, it may be that…" Faramir begins.  
"You tell me he is dead and then suggest sending a messenger to Rohan, to what ends? To see if Boromir is supping ale and whoring with a filthy, bunch of riders?"  
"My Lord, I could be wrong. I am certain we were near Lothlórien and so they could be a little further towards…" I say.  
"So now you say you lie?"  
"No, I just…"  
"Get out, all of you." he shoots a hateful glance at me and then Faramir, "Gondor has lost its greatest defender. Its greatest hope."

I get up of my knees, as Cobryn and Faramir bow to Lord Denethor and Laredith curtseys. We make our way from the room. I am surprised I still feel pity for this man, but how can I convince him I too grieve for Boromir and that I knew him well?  
"Could have been worse." says Cobryn, Laredith and Faramir turn to look at him, "I jest." he mutters.  
"I will send a message to Rohan, asking them if they have seen Boromir, even if my father thinks it foolish. Have some dinner; I will speak with you anon." Faramir says, before turning back down the passageway.

I eat with Cobryn and Laredith, my apparent rank entirely forgotten. I try to keep my eyes on my dinner, but I feel Cobryn's eyes travel to my face every now and then. It irritates me to the point where I slam down my spoon and exclaim,  
"What? Why do you keep looking at me?"  
He flinches and turns back to his bread, "No reason…You just remind me… Oh never mind." He angrily gets up and leaves the room.  
I glance over to Laredith, who looks worried and saddened.  
"Cobryn's family and sweetheart all died in an orc raid, it could be that you remind him of her."  
"He could have told me." I muttered, crumbling my bread into tiny mouthfuls.  
"For all Cobryn's bluntness, he does not like speaking of the past."  
I look up towards the door, thinking I should go after him, but I decide against it. He'll need some time, before I try.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

I am writing on a piece of paper what I should do. It is a very long list. I did it only to clear my mind and to give me something to do; I did try to persuade Laredith to let me help with some of her work, but I may as well have suggested she fling me into a pig pen. She looked horrified. I tried to find Cobryn, after I angered him, but he was no longer around. I asked several of the soldiers who told me he had probably gone to stay in the lower levels of the town. They did not tell me all, but I could guess, whoring and drinking. I wandered around, searching for some form of employment. I could not join the ladies, despite the smoothness of my face; they certainly saw me as beneath them and I was never entertained by sewing or gossip. I regretted speaking so sharply with Cobryn and the disappearance of Faramir, for I belonged nowhere here. It was a week before anything happened and the warden from the houses of healing believed me to be well enough.

"My Lady, Lord Denethor wishes to speak with you." Laredith curtseyed to me, even though I had told her I did not feel comfortable when she did.  
"Why today?" I asked, the question sounding foolish.  
"Faramir has sent a messenger to Rohan; his father can see the benefits of such a task now. But he wishes to speak with you."  
I climbed down from my stool, feeling a little nervous and consciously straightening and smoothing the crimson dress I had worn. Fashions changed quickly in Gondor, for the crimson dress was tighter fitting than the loose gowns the other ladies wore and red was clearly not a favourable colour, for everyone went around in blues, greens, greys and either very light or very dark purple. But I had little choice with the dresses I wore, as they were all given to me out of charity. The Steward nearly had a fit when he saw me in my leggings once, so I decided against wearing them. But this dress did not exactly make me subtle.  
"Did he say what he wanted to speak about?" I asked Laredith.  
"Nay, he just told me to fetch you."

"Lady Nyneve." Lord Denethor smiled callously at me and a shiver went up my spine, I liked it no better when he was being courteous, to when he was wrathful. Either way, he always wanted something from you.  
"My Lord." I replied and gave a curtsey.  
He smiled at me and walked to his desk, littered with official documents and letters.  
"Faramir sends a messenger to Rohan, we shall know the truth then."  
"I hope it is a happy truth."  
He continued to walk round the table, his pale, long fingered hands gliding over the documents and yellowing parchment.  
"My Lord is there some reason you wished to speak to me?"  
"Ah yes." he said, though it was clear he had not forgotten his request. "Yes. Faramir has spoken of what you can do."  
I swallowed and twisted my fingers in my hands, "What I can do…?"  
"Yes," he breathed, excitement making his eyes look mad and his lips curl into a greedy smile, "He told me that you can foresee things."

I felt my heart nearly stop beating, a freezing terror entering my blood.  
"I…I…He speaks too highly of me, I do not…"  
"This is a fitting gain for Boromir's loss."  
"You do not mean that, my Lord." I said, his eyes snapped back to mine.  
"You question what I do and do not mean, girl?"  
"No, my Lord. But what little skill I have is in no way comparable to Boromir."  
"Nay, it is not. Gondor feels the lost and sorrow for their Captain. Yet hope prevails, we can but hope he is in Edoras."  
"Yes, my Lord." Though secretly I knew Boromir was not there.

"And for now, we can make use of what skills you have. If Boromir were here he would ride out to battles, but now you can see where the battles will take place and when, we can catch our enemy off guard and…"  
"My Lord, my gift does not work like that. I have no control over what I see and what it means; I cannot be commanded to see the enemy's mind. But even if I do see, I have no desire to; I fear the enemy will see us. "  
Denethor harrumphed and flippantly waved his hand, "We do not know, until we try."  
"But my Lord…"  
"I am the Steward here and if my son is dead I expect you to give me a little relief. I asked my son to fetch me a gift…and if it is you I will make use of it."  
His eyes grew dark and I remembered the mad look within them, "You girl, fetch Nyneve's mirror."  
Laredith curtsied obediently and ran from the room. I nearly turned and begged her not to but she was out of the door before I could and I knew that I would be made to see, even if I feared it.  
"My Lord I beg you…"  
But he waved his hand at me again and I knew it would be useless to argue. Denethor sat back down in the wooden throne, just a little way off from the larger, stone one. I apprehensively licked my lips and looked down to my slippered feet.

"Has anyone ever spoken to you of your beauty, Nyneve?" Denethor asked and I felt those familiar chills run down my spine.  
"Not really, sir."  
"Ah…I bet there are some who desire you, especially in that red dress of yours." he gave something of a chuckle, "If I were a younger man…"  
I glanced up and wished I hadn't, his eyes locked onto mine and made me feel sick.  
"It is not my dress," I muttered and Denethor laughed.  
"Perhaps we better take it off you then."  
My cheeks flamed as red as the dress itself and I kept my eyes lowered.  
"Please, my Lord. I do not desire such attention."  
"It hardly matters whether you desire it or not, the men will give it to you. A beautiful woman with such dark hair and deep, blue eyes is not something to miss. Ah there will be many who long to kiss those lips of yours, Nyneve. I have seen the way Cobryn looks at you and even Faramir. Faramir, of all people!" he laughed.  
"Cobryn mourns for his home and his people; Faramir is too busy defending his own. I am certain they have no time for me." I said, biting back my anger and repulsion.  
"A look takes no more than a few moments and they have given you plenty."  
I had an intense longing to tell him to keep his mouth shut, but it is very well to tell that to a drunken man at a tavern, another matter to tell that to the Steward of Gondor.  
"My Lord, I do not think it is wise to speak of such things. I know I have two brothers, after all."  
Denethor gave another smirk, "And you know they are alive, my Lady?"  
"Yes."

I breathed a sigh of relief when Laredith came back into the hall with my mirror and Faramir at her side. I looked up at Faramir to see if what his father had said was true, but he gave me nothing more than a polite bow and then turned his gaze back to his father.  
"I did not summon you, Captain Faramir."  
"No father, but I do believe I ought to be here."  
"Why?" his father snapped.  
"If Nyneve sees Boromir in a known place then I can saddle my horse and be gone to…"  
"And who will guard Gondor while you are gone?"  
"Madril will lead the Ithilien Rangers and Cobryn knows my mind and Boromir's, he will fit well amongst the Lieutenants of the White Tower."  
Denethor snorted, "Cobryn is scarcely out of his boyhood."  
"Cobryn has spent long enough within our company; he has had four years' worth of battle and has not returned home once. He is a man dedicated to defending Gondor; you know Boromir admired him and Hamnet."  
Denethor scowled, but Faramir continued, "If I am not to leave then I can send a…"  
"Yes, very well. Stay." His father muttered, he gestured for Laredith to give me my mirror.  
I slowly removed the brown cloth; I had the back facing towards me and softly touched the intricate design, the entwined ivy leaves and the Elvish writing upon the back,  
_  
'What you shall find, seek it out. What you shall seek, find it here. May the soft waters of this land quench your thirst and drown your sorrows, may the moon and starlight of Lothlórien find your path.'_

I flipped the mirror over, there was a crack in the surface and I wondered if it would still work. I placed it upon the table and kept my eyes looking into the surface.  
"Well?" Denethor said impatiently.  
"If your Lordship would allow me but a little time." I said, but even as I spoke it was as though someone had dropped a pebble into a pond and the mirror rippled. My hands griped either side of the smooth circle and I stared into it. I saw two men, an Elf and a dwarf gathered on a bank, they looked outward to two men holding a boat. One dark and one fair, I knew those men. I knew those people. I knew the dark-haired one began to sing, yet I could not hear the words. The fair-haired one wept. The mirror rippled again and I saw the group running across a land I did not know, flat grasslands, few trees, but with a mass of boulders and rocks. Mountains in the distance. 'They pursue something or someone.' My mind said. Then the mirror rippled once more and I saw…

"Well?" thundered Lord Denethor, the mirror retained its blankness and I knew I would not be able to see anymore, but at least I had not seen the Eye.  
"I saw some people I knew, gathered on the bank…someone was dead."  
"Did you see who?" Faramir asked. I shook my head.  
"Anything else?" Denethor said.  
"It changed; they were running across an unknown land, searching for someone or something…they were tracking someone."  
"They?"  
"Several men, an Elf and a Dwarf."  
"What did this land look like?" Faramir asked.  
"Few trees, mountains in the distance, low lying plants and grasses, plains."  
"That is Rohan." Faramir said and made to leave, but Denethor gestured for him to stay.  
"Where in Rohan?" he asked me.  
"I told you, I did not know it. I do not know of the cities or towns there."  
"Fine," Denethor gritted his teeth and turned to Faramir, "We already have one messenger staying in Rohan, did you tell him to stay there until he heard news?"  
"Yes, father." Faramir replies.  
"Good. There is no need for you to go to Rohan. I expect you to be back in Ithilien by nightfall."  
Faramir bows and walks from the room, I pull the cloth over the mirror again.  
"You can leave now, Nyneve. Unless you desire to stay…" Lord Denethor gives me that hard, hungry look again.  
"No, my Lord. I will not trouble you further; I hope we can find Boromir." I reply and hastily leave the room.

"I did not know Lord Denethor desired you." Laredith says, reproachfully almost.  
"I do not seek his attention."  
"I am certain no maid would, it is known he has whores though." She takes the mirror from me and places it into the chest by the foot of my bed.  
"Laredith, I am no whore."  
"I'm not saying you are, sorry my Lady."  
"Well the looks some people give me for wearing red is enough to make me feel ashamed." I mutter.  
"You should go to Rohan, the people there I'm told wear red, brown, green and gold…though I am also told they…"  
"They what?" I smile at her and she gives an embarrassed grin.  
"Their women are a little looser with their morals. Even their wives!"  
I laugh at that and Laredith smiles, it feels good to have a moment when I don't fear.

"You know…" Laredith begins, then looks apologetic again.  
"What?"  
"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be listening to gossip, my mother tells me off all the time for…"  
"No, tell me."  
"Well it is just…people are saying you look like this woman, she's a witch of some sort. It's an ancient myth of Gondor, but you do bare a passing resemblance to her."  
"Who?" I ask.  
"I cannot remember, they just call her the 'water witch' and the 'Seducer of the Steward' things like that…it's all nonsense, but there are people who whisper you will bring the downfall of Gondor as she nearly did."  
"Where is this picture?" I ask.  
"I'll show you, but you should not worry. It is just people getting carried away."

She pulls me down darkened passageways, through empty rooms, deeper towards the library they hold here. She scans the bookshelves, before picking out a book.  
"I can't read much, but I had a serving lad show me which one it was."  
She flips the book open and quickly goes through the pages, before finding the right one.  
"Ah this is her."  
I look at the woman; her arms raised upwards, her eyes almost snake-like in their narrowness. Her hair flies backwards around her head. The dress she wears coils round her growing tighter towards her legs, as though the green material is forming part of her skin. Her mouth is opened in a horrible scream. Black wings are unfurled along her back, reaching into the darkened sky. Laredith shudders.  
"I think when you saw the…well that thing. It reminded me and several others of this."

I turn the page, seeing her pressing her slim body against a tall man wearing a dark tunic bearing the white tree and the crown. Another, wearing a dark blue tunic is hidden behind a curtain, weeping.  
"See? She betrays her husband for love of the King. That is meant to be King Isildur, but I cannot remember how the story goes. I don't know if she did sleep with him or whether he husband kills her or something like that."  
I swiftly close the book, Laredith looks surprised, "Tis only a story." she says.  
"But it is not the right one." I said, pushing it back on the shelf.  
I marched back up the stairs. Laredith runs to catch up with me.  
"How do you know it is not the right one? How do you know of her? That is a story of Gondor."  
"I do know of her and I know she would not do something like that, at least…not if she had lost control of her will."  
"But how do you know of her? Of her story?"  
"I don't…I just, I know. I know many things I do not understand."

* * *

That night I dreamt of a hall, a great golden, wooden hall. My feet silently slipped past sleeping men, their faces softened by their own dreams and ale. Empty vats littered the end of the hall and wooden tables were pushed back to allow the men to rest easily. I walked from one end of the hall to the other, then stopped. Was I looking for something? Among all these men. As my gaze fell on one of the men slumbering I knew his face. I knelt beside him and slowly touched the skin under his eyes, the roughness of his cheek. I smiled when I felt his lips, somehow still soft. He rolled onto his back in sleep, his mouth moving slightly as though he were saying something.  
"Sleep on, sleep on. Let not the shadows disturb you." I whispered and bent my head down; I pressed my lips against his, then pulled away when I felt his mouth reach upwards towards my kiss. But I was too slow and he quickly opened his eyes.  
"Melusida." he whispered, his hand reached out towards me. I quickly pulled away and ran from him. I heard shouts and screaming, but I did not turn back.

I woke with his voice echoing in my mind, the name he had said whispering inside my head. My lips felt heavy and numb from his kiss. I closed my eyes and pulled my hands over my ears. But still his grey eyes burned brightly into my own and his whisper filled my head.

* * *

Ah I love it when I write up to Chapter Twenty and then completely change my mind! Eighteen is pretty much the same, but Nineteen and Twenty have gone, and are going, through considerable change. But I do like it a lot better than what I had originally written, it got a bit too cliche and humorous, just wasn't working AT ALL. I'm enjoying writing Faramir's character and Denethor's (even though my muse has made him a little bit pervy! - sorry :D).

Scarlet tribe - *mysterious voice*the cook's son, but yes, it could be...it could very well be Cobryn from the previous chapters ;) Ooooh!

Thanks everyone for favouriting/following and reviewing. Does make me laugh when I get reviews that just say 'more', but I do appreciate any and all *hint hint ;)* xxx


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

I stood at the end of the stone walkway, opening outwards onto a flat plane of cliff, the wall surrounding the palace and the ornamental garden here. The garden with the white tree. Often I would find myself staring at it or walking outwards to look down at the city and then across to Mordor. Those I had spoken to always said the name with something of dread in their tone and I could see why, the mountains loomed in the east and the sky was blackened as though a great fire had burnt there. Indeed, sometimes the sky in the distance would glow red and I fought not to remember the Eye. Still my gaze was drawn there.

When I heard the clatter of horse's hooves upon the stairs I turned to see a messenger make his way towards the hall. I ran towards him as he dismounted and begged audience with Lord Denethor, the soldier at the door bade him wait.  
"Do you bring news of Boromir?" I asked him.  
The messenger nodded, "I will speak to Lord Denethor firstly."  
The soldier came out and told the messenger Lord Denethor would hear his words. But even as I tried to follow him the soldier gave a shake of his head. I realised whatever news the messenger had would probably take some time, I walked back to my room.  
Laredith was quiet today, she had been chatty enough this morning, but when I told her the messenger was here she became very solemn. I sat on the bed for a while, before getting up and pacing back and forth in my room.  
"Do you think he will summon us?" I asked her.  
"I hardly know, my Lady."

We did not have to wait any more than an hour; I was summoned by a guard to the main hall, where Denethor sat his face blank and frightened. I felt my knees give way.  
"Oh my Lord, I am so sorry."  
The horn was back in his lap once more, his eyes no longer seeing me or anyone else.  
"My Lord?" I said.  
His eyes quickly shot back to me.  
"My son is dead." he said, his voice sounded hollow.  
I bowed my head and held back my tears, though I scarcely knew why I wept. I could not remember his son, I barely knew him.  
"I am sorry that I had to be the first one to bring these sad tidings to you, my Lord. And then we had hoped he would…"  
Denethor glared at me, "You have done enough. In the duty you owe me and the loyalty Boromir showed I expect you to…"  
"To do what, my Lord?"  
"Bring out your mirror daily, tell me everything you see. Boromir can no longer bring me the gift I required, but he brings me a fitting substitute."  
"My Lord, it endangers your land and your people. I will endanger you and Faramir."  
His eyes cut back to mine, "What care I for that? What care I for Faramir?"  
"You must care for your people and your land, I will not knowingly endanger them when I know it can be avoided–"  
"I will be obeyed!" he roars at me, the horn flying off his lap and skittering across the stone floor. He nearly falls and grabs hold of the chair for support, his eyes remain fixed on the horn. I slowly pick it up and make my way toward him.  
"I know I cannot remember Boromir, but I know in my heart he would not have wanted this. He would never have put Gondor in danger for the sake of a little foresight. It cannot be governed, my Lord, as I have told you. I can never control what I see, just when and where on occasion."

His eyes look glazy, as he stares back at me. I wonder if he heard anything I said.  
"My Lord?"  
I place the horn back in his hands and help him into his chair.  
"How do you do that?" he asks.  
"Do what, my Lord?"  
His face grows warm and kindly and he gently touches my cheek. I nearly fling my head back in horror, but his eyes retain that lost, contented look.  
"You look so like Finduilas." he smiles and shakes his head, as though greatly amused.  
"I am not her." I replied, wondering who Finduilas was, one of his whores perhaps. I got up, away from his outstretched hands.  
"Yet you are not her and I know you…I know your face." His brow became furrowed and he continued to look at me intently.  
"Should I leave your lordship to your grief?" I asked.  
"Finduilas died a long time ago and still I cannot forget, still it hurts me."  
"My father was a changed man when my mother died, he could never be at ease without her." I remember the tall, broad shouldered man weeping by the boat, where my mother lay, pale as lilies, wearing her best dress.  
Lord Denethor nods slowly, "And did he love you and your brothers?"  
"Yes, my Lord. He was a determined and stubborn man, but I know he still loved my brothers and I."  
"I do not love Faramir because…because…"  
His face grows lost in the past and I give him a short curtsey, though I confess I was curious as to why he spoke so harshly to Faramir, when he seemed like a good man and wise captain. I turn to go, but Lord Denethor says nothing more and I leave the hall.

Laredith does not need to ask me any questions when I return, she takes in my sorrowful expression and hidden tears, before settling me to bed and then bidding me goodnight. I hear something of a muffled sob within her own voice, but when she leaves I weep into my pillows. I cry for not only Boromir but all those I knew and loved, those who are lost to me, those who have gone to the halls of my forefathers and those I do not know if they are living or dead. I cry for the hobbits climbing the hills towards Mordor.

* * *

"You will read for me today." The expression sounds so familiar that I nearly jump; I look up from my breakfast to see Lord Denethor's grim eyes on my own. He nods to Laredith who runs back to my room. I know this was planned, he means for her to fetch my mirror. The court is dismissed from breakfast once the Steward is done and everyone leaves; I avoid their looks as I stay behind with the Steward, I have barely touched my food since he spoke.  
"Come here." he commands, I get up towards his own table, wishing my feet could slow to a snail's pace.  
"Quickly, girl." he snaps.  
I fling myself into the seat beside him and wait for Laredith. I wonder if he can remember anything from yesterday, but he snaps his fingers for his goblet to be refilled and studies some documents while we wait. Laredith finally comes back in, the mirror now hidden under a blue velvet cloth. She hands it to me. I close my eyes momentarily and pull the cover away. My pale and weary expression gazes back at me.  
"You can go." Lord Denethor says to Laredith.

I feel the pull of my mind as it draws me to the mirror and I stare into the shifting glass, moving like silk. I see a man I know, a man who will someday be king. He stares at me a while and clasps the chain at his neck, sorrow and despair filling his eyes. He disappears. I see a beautiful Elleth that I know; she lies on a small bed, her skin almost pale as snow. My vision is blurred, but only because I weep for her, knowing she will never see him again.  
"I do not regret this choice." I hear her say.

"Well what did you see?" Denethor instantly asks.  
I hastily brush away my tears, "The king."  
"Which king?" he looks suddenly nervous, though his anger never leaves his face.  
"The King of Gondor."  
"Arathorn's heir?" Denethor whispers, I nod. "Who is he? Where is he?"  
"Aragorn, his name is Aragorn. They kept him hidden, but now he returns. If you call upon Rohan he will be amongst them."  
"Ha! We have no need for such cowards here, nor for Rohan." Denethor mutters.  
"Aragorn is no coward." I say, though I do not know if I can make such a bold claim.

"You knew him then?"  
"Yes. He was among the first to arrive when Boromir called for the fellowship to aid us…"  
"The fellowship?"  
"I…I cannot remember beyond that. I know he was with us."  
"We will not have this exile here, this man who takes no responsibility and does not seek his duty."  
"Perhaps there is good reason for that…" I murmur.  
Denethor is out of his chair in an instant and shaking me roughly by my shoulders.  
"I will not have some witch question my command, I will not have it. Do you understand? Do you understand, Elwen?"  
"My Lord, you are not right in your mind. My name is Nyneve, not Elwen."  
He draws his face so close to mine I can smell the wine on his breath and the spit forming at the side of his mouth.  
"I meant Nyneve, of course I did. I would not mistake you, Elwen was fair after all, you are dark...she was so fair."

He releases me from his tight grasp and turns back to his chair, he always looks weakened when he loses his mind. Who are these people, Finduilas and Elwen? I cannot believe they are just his whores, not when he speaks their names with such…he makes them sound so different, so apart from everything else. I quickly cover my mirror with the cloth again and hold it tightly to my chest. I wait for him to speak but he remains in his chair, lost in thought.  
"If you are happy, my Lord, I will leave you now."  
He grunts, but as I go to leave his head suddenly snaps up and he gestures for me to stay.  
"I know you are a fine singer, Elwen–"  
"It is Nyneve, my Lord."  
He waves his hands as though it does not matter.  
"I would have you sing for me."  
"My Lord, I…"  
"Sing. Damn it." he angrily pulls some letters towards him and takes a deep drink from his goblet. He looks back up at me, "What? You would have me summon my minstrels to aid you?"  
"No, my Lord." I say quickly.

It is only a song. I can manage a song. It is strange I remember some, my past remains hidden, yet songs and the faces of those I love remain. When I sing I find myself thinking of the soldier on the hill, the one I urged to leave me and who stayed by my side throughout. I think of the lost King and the dying Elleth. Where are they now?

_I wish I was on yonder hill,  
Tis there I'd sit and cry my fill,  
Until every tear would turn a mill,  
Is go dte tu mo mhuirnin slan._

_I'll sell my rod, I'll sell my reel,  
I sell my only spinning wheel,  
To buy my love a sword of steel,  
Is go dte tu mo mhuirnin slan._

_Siuil, siuil, siuil a ruin,  
Siuil go sochair agus siuil go ciuin,  
Siuil go doras agus ealaigh liom,  
Is go dte tu mo mhuirnin slan._

_I'll dye my petticoats, I'll dye them red,  
and around the world I'll beg my bread.  
Until my parents would wish me dead,  
Is go dte tu mo mhuirnin slan._

_But now my love has gone, the last.  
To try his fortune to advance.  
If he e'er comes back tis but a chance.  
Is go dte tu mo mhuirnin slan._

_Siuil, siuil, siuil a ruin,  
Siuil go sochair agus siuil go ciuin,  
Siuil go doras agus ealaigh liom,  
Is go dte tu mo mhuirnin slan._

I look over to Lord Denethor but his face is now lost in the past and I realise he cannot see or hear me, I give a curtsey to be polite and then quietly leave through the door. Laredith is waiting outside.  
"That song is so beautiful, where did you learn it?" she says.  
"My mother."  
We begin to walk down the hallway.  
"What does the other language mean?"  
"_Go, go, go my love, Go quietly and peacefully, Go to the door and flee with me, And may you go safely my dear_. It is about a woman telling a man that he can go, she will wait for him or do whatever he desires, she will remain at his side."

We get back to my rooms and I turn to my maid,  
"Laredith, I need to ask you something."  
"Yes?"  
"Twice now the Lord Denethor has…has mistaken me for someone else."  
"Ah, he sometimes does that. His mind draws to the past. It is a rarity though, his mind is still strong, he is still a good Steward."  
I admire her loyalty to a man I so dislike and distrust, especially when he treats his younger son with such contempt. I wonder now how Faramir will fare when he learns of his older brother's death.  
"He has mistaken me for two women and at first I thought perhaps they were his whores, but now…Anyway, that does not matter. At first he called me Finduilas and then only today he called me Elwen. Who are they? You must know, surely?"  
Her face grows grave, "Well everyone knows of the Lady Finduilas, she was his wife. I can vaguely see why he thought you were her, but in many ways you are very different from her. Everyone thought the Lady Finduilas was very beautiful and caring, but I was not born at the time. My mother was in her household as a maid. I cannot tell you who Elwen was, but my mother might be able to."  
"Can I speak with her?" I asked.  
"Yes, she will not be at our home till the evening, but we will seek her out then."  
"Thank you, Laredith."  
"It is no trouble to help you." Laredith grinned and then lay on my bed. "Some of the ladies I serve are…" she looked guilty then.  
I jumped on the bed by her, "Come Laredith, I will tell no one and you are more a friend to me, than a serving maid."  
"They just complain all the time, it's as though they had nothing better to do and they all sit around preening themselves. I can see why neither Boromir nor Faramir are married–"

She suddenly looked guilty and saddened, I guessed by the thought Boromir would now never marry. I squeezed her hand.  
"He was very brave." I murmur.  
"He always said he never wanted to get married, he said to his men that he would sooner be married to an orc than any woman."  
I know I should feel grief, but instead I feel a bubble of laughter inside my throat and all at once I am laughing and Laredith with me. I think I can imagine him saying such a thing, Faramir rolling his eyes perhaps at his brother's insistence.  
"An orc?" I cry.  
"Yes, imagine sharing a bed with an orc!" We wrinkle up our faces in disgust, while still tears of laughter slip over our cheeks.  
"It is bad enough with a man." Laredith grins.  
"Have you?" I asked, in some ways shocked.  
"No! What do you take me for?" she says.  
"You near enough called me a whore."  
"That was by accident."  
"How do you know what sharing a man's bed is like?"  
"I hear things." she says, rather proudly.  
"Ah, more gossip." I grin.

Her smile alters between guilty and proud, "I…No…It's just that…When I'm with my friends I have to listen to them and one of my friends, Sacien, has lain with a man."  
"What is it like?" I feel so tired with being serious and worried, that a few moments of girlish silliness does not seem such a crime.  
Laredith snorts with laughter, "Messy. She said she spent most of it lying down, so she couldn't really tell what was going on."  
I giggle.  
"If the Steward knew about this we would both get into such trouble." she says.  
"Why would he concern himself with two girls?" I asked.  
"He concerns himself with you."  
"That is only because I have something he can use, if my gift left me he would probably fling me out of Minas Tirith faster than you can say–"  
"Why don't you pretend it has gone?" she says, suddenly leaping up and kneeling beside me.  
"What?"  
"You do not want to stay; you have said you endanger the city. Pretend you cannot see any more and there is no reason for you to stay. Not that I want you to go, but if you think that is right…"

I sigh and get up off the bed.  
"He would make me look in the mirror and I always see something when I look into it. I cannot help it…"  
"Break it then." She said.  
I had never thought of this and I wondered if I could do so? I went to my chest, were the mirror lay. I could smash it against the wall. But it had come down a river, how much damaged did you have to do to an Elven mirror before it broke? Would I still see things in the pieces? Even when I picked it up, I knew I could not or would not.  
"It is Elven-made; it will take a lot to break it. And suppose I had another vision like the one in the passage, what then? He would know I had lied. Besides, I have had thoughts of stealing maps of Gondor and Arda, taking a horse from the stables and going to Rohan, but he would pursue me."  
"He cannot want your skills so badly…?"  
"Boromir was meant to fetch something for him and bring it back to Minas Tirith, a great evil that no one can use or wield…except for Him." I nodded to the East, "Lord Denethor has said before that Boromir has replaced that gift with me, he will not give me up in a great hurry…If I went to Rohan he would believe they had stolen me from him, he would be likely to wage war on Rohan and forget the Shadow here."

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I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but I suppose it will have to do for now! I am happy with how chapters 19-22 are turning out, so I'm glad I did decide to change them entirely. Please read and review xxx


	19. Chapter 19

This is quite long, but it has gone through some alterations from the original document (and I like it a lot better now, surprisingly this sticks to the original idea I had). Anyway, I realise the first parts are quite similar and it's the ending that's changed, but it's a hint of what's to come. So I hope you enjoyed it and please, please, PLEASE review, it's the only way I know if I've done something horribly wrong. Thanks for reading. P.S Anyone see the White Queen last night on the BBC? It was AMAZINGLY GOOD and more or less what this story is based on (for those who live in America I believe it's coming your way Dec 2013) and for now read Philippa Gregory, she's brilliant xxx

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**Chapter Nineteen**

I had only meant to take a walk around the upper halls and gardens, but it seemed I was drawn to the main hall. Outside was a figure I recognised and with joy I ran to him.  
"Cobryn!" I cried out, forgetting he was angry with me.  
"Lady Nyneve." he gave a deliberate bow and a steady look.  
"Come now, you were the first to doubt I had right to such a title."  
He scuffed his feet a little.  
"I am sorry for being so hasty with you." I said.  
His head remains lowered, "You have been the first to remind me of my home, even though I cannot return there."  
I press my lips together and nod.  
We stand a few moments in silence before I say, "Won't you tell me of your sweetheart there?"  
He gives a shrug, "She was barely that. I kissed her once and became enamoured." but he gave an honest smile then. "She would probably be married by now, if she were still…"

I nod sympathetically, but become distracted by the raised voices in the Hall. I recognise near hysterical one of Lord Denethor, but it is joined by another, a clearer and more authoritative tone. "Who is that?" I whisper.  
"They say it is the wizard..."  
"A wizard!" I move back sharply. Cobryn frowned.  
"I see no reason to fear such a man, he seemed…honourable. He travels with a companion too, a Hafling, but I have not heard him speak, he is too quiet. I know they speak of Boromir…" Cobryn's voice was cut off, as the stranger began to speak again.

"War is coming; the enemy is on your doorstep. As Steward you are charged with the defence of this city, where are Gondor's armies? You still have friends. You are not alone in this fight. Send word to Théoden of Rohan, light the beacons." The voice that spoke was calm and measured, but a strong force to be reckoned with.  
"You think you are wise Mithrandir, yet for all your subtleties you have not wisdom. Do you think the eyes of the White Tower are blind? I have seen more than you know…"  
Cobryn gave me a look, his eyebrows slightly raised.  
"He exaggerates, I have barely seen anything." I whispered.  
"…With your left hand you would use me as a shield against Mordor and with your right you would seek to supplant me. I know who rides with Théoden of Rohan, oh yes; word has reached my ear of this Aragorn, son of Arathorn. And I tell you now, I will not bow to this Ranger of the North, last of a ragged house long bereft of Lordship."

Cobryn turned to look at me, "You should get back to your room and get some rest. Lord Denethor will not wish to find us both eavesdropping, especially as I bear some news that will not please him."  
I glanced up at him, "News? What news? Why do you tell me to rest?"  
"I shall tell you later, it is too long to speak of now. You look tired, there are shadows under your eyes, have you been sleeping badly? I would have thought it would be more comfortable than coming down a river." he smiled at me, but I slowly touched the skin under my eyes.  
"I have slept well, I do not feel weary."  
Cobryn nervously ruffled the back of his hair, "Perhaps it is the Shadow. I know I am never at ease in this city."  
I sighed, "I have thought of leaving, but I would need the Steward's will to do so before I even tried."  
"That is certainly true."  
"I shall see you soon then, Cobryn."  
He gave me another bow, but this time it was politer and I smiled at him. I ran down the stairs to my room, somehow still unnerved by the arrival of this wizard and hafling.

* * *

Whether it was the growing darkness of the East or whether my mind had taken Cobryn's advice to heart I lay down on my bed and drifted to sleep. It was not an easy sleep by any means, half remembered dreams and the words some had said disturbed my mind;

_ "You are welcome to my forest, maiden of rivers. I know the answers that you seek, yet you do not know all the questions of which to ask. You will learn of the times before us, those that have passed and those that are yet to come…Sauron will seek you for his own; the power of a girl who can foretell what is to come is something he will desire…Neither immortal nor mortal, human, elf or witch. I give you life, my daughter."_

My mind felt as though it was falling deeper into my dreams, I walked along the passageways of Rivendell, the open corridors shining with light, all empty. No sounds of softly spoken words, the beautiful songs or music the Elves had. The leaves of the trees were brown and golden, softly falling over the paths and green of the gardens. I followed the stairs down to the hall of Isildur. I walked inside the cold room, the light dim; I saw the statue, where the pieces of the sword lay gleaming in the semi-darkness. I saw the picture of Melusine on the opposite wall. I picked up the sword's handle in my own hand, knowing it was still razor sharp. I turned back to the picture. I would end this, end this curse on my family. I walked towards the picture and raised the sword above my head, preparing to scar the image's surface and then cut deeper.  
"That is not for you to wield." A familiar voice spoke. I turned, the sword slipping somewhat from my grasp as I lowered my hand. Boromir watched me from the doorway. I could not keep my eyes from him, the fine clothing of his tunic and the softness of his hair. He walked towards me and loosened the grip I had on the sword further until it fell into his own hand, then placed it reverently back onto the statue. As he lingered by the statue I walked towards him and slowly placed my hand on his chest, making sure he was real. He smiled rather arrogantly then, but no anger flared my blood.

"When first I came here I only had eyes for the sword of Isildur. Yet now I see Her. Her beauty and grace. Why would you wish to harm something that has made you who you are?" he said, looking towards the picture, his hand touched the long streaming hair and the ripples around her waist. I furiously looked away from the girl in the river, her features so similar to my own. I took another glance at the Steward, before I had barely paid him any heed. He did not look like Denethor, he looked like Boromir.  
"Because She harmed what future I could have, she poisoned my family's blood."  
"You blame Her, yet I hear no fault of His." Boromir said.  
"I…She had a choice."  
"And so did He, so do you. Melusida, you believe too strongly that fate is something out of our hands and mind. We dream of fate, yet we do not know life is going beyond us, changing things that we could control…should we wish to control them."  
"What choice do I have? I was taken to Rivendell, then to Lothlorien, now Gondor…"

"There is choice enough, if you would seek to take it. You had a choice when arriving in Gondor, if you had really wished for it you could have fled before then."  
"Your father–"  
"Is a difficult man, I give you that. But you are not yet a citizen of Gondor, you are beyond the rules of any land and the willpower of any King or Steward. You are the descendant of a Goddess, should you so choose you can be beyond the will of all Men, Elves, Dwarves and Hobbits. In our belief that we have no choice we delude ourselves, because we are just simply ignoring choice altogether and our own abilities."

I looked back to the picture; the painted river water lay dull and lifeless. I frowned; it was unlike the Elves to paint anything other than beauty. I altered my position, trying in vain to get the light to gleam and shine on the water.  
"She made a choice, even though it was not the safest one, it brought Her the most happiness." Boromir came to my side.  
"I hardly know who She is anymore, there are so many stories concerning Her. Some good, some bad. She is no longer mine." I said.  
Boromir smiled, "She was never yours, She was never your mother's. She did not even really belong to the man she married, but that is a good thing. For no matter what She was, She still had a part that belonged solely to Herself."

I thought for a moment, my own hand reverently touching Her hair in the painting,  
"Men always fear woman who keep part of themselves hidden, they believe they should own all and know all in a marriage. Even my own father believed that."  
Boromir's hand joined my own, his fingers entwining between mine, "It is a rare man who believes they can still love a woman and not fear her own mind and heart."  
I looked at him, longing for him to answer all my questions, yet I could only think of one. "Where are you?"

He gave a soft smile, bent his head and kissed me. His lips warmed my own and his hands held tightly onto my face, lifting it up to taste my mouth. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, wishing I could stay in this moment, make it last forever. But all too soon he broke away. In the first time for years my heart longed to hear the sweet waters of the river.

_"I am Melusida, daughter of Hanel, descendent of Melusine, a water goddess."_

I jolted awake, the room now darker, the words still on my lips. Melusida. 'I am Melusida.' That was my name. I stumbled over to the fire which had died down and threw on a log; I pursed my lips and gently blew till the flame took hold. Why had I forgotten my own name? A clattering in the next room told me someone had not closed the shutter properly. I lit a candle and made my way to the small sitting room beyond my bedroom. The shutter swung loudly in the wind. What else could I remember? Rivendell, my brothers, Aragorn and Arwen, my own mother's face as clear as day, the Lady Galadriel, my mirror, Melusine and Calaeriel, the orcs, dying…Boromir. I caught hold of the shutter and held it steady while every dream and vision, every memory came rushing back into my mind. Why had I forgotten?

A rumble of thunder made me open my eyes and look up, but even though the clouds were grey, the air did not smell of rain and no thunder rolled around the sky, that ever present smell of sharp metal and sulphurous rock stung my nostrils. Suddenly a bright green, blue light shot upwards in the distance. Its glow shone over the dark mountains and yet gave no relieving light to their darkness. As another roar came from that place I realised there was no thunder, this was just the beginning of darkness. The light crackled like lightening, but this was no storm of the Earth. My eyes remained fixated on the horizon, until I saw people gathering in the streets and on the top of roofs to see better. I picked up my cloak and ran from the room. As I left through the main door I could see the soldiers gathered on the battlements, gazing out, their faces clearly terrified. With the dark shadow and clouds I could not tell the time of day, though it felt as though it were night. I was not sure if I had slept for so long.

I jumped when a hand came down on my shoulder, but calmed my breathing when Faramir smiled softly at me.  
"Good evening, Lady Nyneve."  
I felt something of a fool for giving him a false name, but I knew I should tell him my real one.  
"I can remember things, the noise of that woke me and I can remember. My name is not Nyneve, it is Melusida….My family were descended from Gondor, my father was Hanel, he served under your father…" I said, my voice almost a whisper. Faramir frowned.  
"We must speak of this soon, but my father summons you to his side."  
I looked up apprehensively, "Now? Why?"  
"I realise it feels as though it is late, but it is not yet past the sixth hour. The Shadow of Mordor looms over our heads. I am never sure why my father wishes to speak with you, but I am certain it has something to do with this," he gestured to the light, "and your gift."

He firmly turned me back towards the hall, but I was surprised when we entered the place and Lord Denethor was nowhere in sight.  
"My father is in his study," Faramir explained, "It would be best not to trouble him with the memories you have gained."  
I suddenly recalled my father's rebellion and why his name would not be welcomed in this place.  
"Did you know my father?" I asked.  
"Not very well, but I have been piecing together your story. Rivendell interested me and it took me a while to remember, but I recalled one night your mother telling me the story of her history. I knew I had heard the name of Melusine before. You have only just confirmed my suspicions, but that of course would not be welcomed by my father. I learnt of what yours did merely in lessons of war, it was meaningless to me then."  
"You knew my mother?" I asked excitedly.  
Faramir smiled as we walked up some stairs, "A little, after my mother died she took some care of Boromir and I. Though if memory serves me correct she was quite young and many of the ladies who served in my mother's household took good care of us…though most were dismissed by my father as time went on."  
"It must have been easier to dismiss my mother when she married against her father's will…" I said.  
Faramir gave a shrug, "I do not believe it was so easy, after all, there were some plans after my mother died for her to marry my father."  
"What?"

I stop walking along the corridor and stare up at Faramir, who has continued on a few paces but now comes back towards me.  
"I am afraid I do not know how much your parents told you or anyone else."  
"Not enough for my liking." I muttered furiously, why had the Lady Galadriel neglected to tell me this? Unless my mother had not told Arwen, but I believed she had told her everything.  
"I thought your father had been so mournful he had chosen to remain unwed." I said.  
Faramir turned away from me and gazed out of the windows, the archways still gleaming with that unnatural light.  
"It is hard to say where my father's mind rests, but it would have been a good political match, your mother was beloved of the people here, her family could trace their heritage to Isildur's time and she was still young…" He eyes grew dark and he pressed his lips together, "Young and fertile. For a time her father and my own sought to continue the line of the Stewards."

I came to his side and curled my hands into fists, I hated men doing this. I hated the way they had spoken about my mother, like a fat cow, mating with a bull. Her choice and her life being of unequivocal irrelevance to that of men and their family descendants. As long as she gave birth to healthy children, that was all that mattered. That and her family's connections. Faramir gave me a slight smile.  
"But then she ruined it all but falling in love and marrying your father."  
I gazed up at him, but his eyes shone with unspoken laughter. I smiled.  
"I know what my father did was wrong, but I am glad my mother married him."  
"As am I." replied Faramir.  
"I thought you said she was good to you, would she not have been a fitting mother?"  
"A very fitting mother, she was kind and loving with me and very patient with Boromir. He became slightly more aggressive when our mother died, but yours was able to calm him and teach him a common ground of respect and compassion. And I'm sure she made a fitting mother to you and your brothers. But she would not have made a fitting wife to my father."

"What should I do now? I cannot…I should not keep up the name Nyneve, it is not my own. But your father…I have no desire to tell him, I fear his temper. But he will surely find out?"  
Faramir considered this, "Use your name in private, but I would not tell him yet. To be reminded of both his wife, your family and your father's uprising, and the death of Boromir…I would dread to think upon his anger towards you. The great wizard Mithrandir is with us, we can discuss this with him."  
"Gandalf?" I exclaim, "But he…he died, he fell."  
"And was reborn, or so he tells me, but we shall speak of that later. My father does not entirely possess the virtue of patience. Do not fear, Nyneve or Melusida, whomever you are, I will seek Mithrandir out and tell him of our worries." he gave a gentle, grim smile.

We made our way along the passage and then Faramir directed me to a door, he knocked, but made his way back down the darkened passageway.  
"Enter." I heard Denethor's rough voice from inside the room.  
I quietly opened the door and slipped inside. A low fire lingered in the fireplace and lit the room in a soft glow. When my eyes became accustomed to the gloom I saw the cases of maps and scrolls lining the walls, but also a desk with a high backed chair, Lord Denethor sat in the chair, gazing down at his folded hands.  
"My Lord?" I said and he looked up at me.  
"Ah Nyneve, I have a desire to speak with you." Despite all that had happened, his voice sounded quite calm. "Please sit." he indicated the chair opposite him and I cautiously obeyed.  
"I saw the light in the distance and have been dwelling upon this for some time. I have need for you to see into the enemy's mind, to know what will come…"  
"My Lord, I have told you before. What you will learn is not worth the danger it will put your city in. A little foresight is barely worth anything. You do not need me to know the enemy will attack this city and soon, he will be stronger than anything we can imagine."

Before I had finished Lord Denethor was searching through a cupboard, dragging out a heavy wooden box. It had carvings on the lid that I could not read and in the centre was a red circle.  
"We shall know everything, every detail, every plan…" he murmured, his hands trailing over the lid of the box.  
"And if I refuse?" I asked, it was a bold question, but there was little to lose now. His eyes snapped up to mine.  
"It is a fool who refuses a Steward."  
His eyes warned me of what would happen should I refuse him and strangely I was drawn to that dark box, wondering what it held inside, though I feared its contents.  
"I should have realised this before, your mirror is of little use to me, but this…Oh, imagine this in your grasp."

He unlocked the box and drew the lid open. I peered round the lid trying to see what it was, but what he brought out was covered in black silk though I could make out the round, spherical shape as he placed it on the desk and smiled at me. He drew back the silk and it hissed softly in his hold. It was a smoothly polished ball made of some kind of dark crystal or glass, the firelight glimmered upon it. I stared at it. Whatever it was it filled me with an unknown dread, as though He were here. I got up from my chair.  
"Give me your hand." Lord Denethor commanded.  
"No."  
"Give me your hand." he said more coldly.  
"No. My Lord, whatever this is, it has no good intent. It should not be here. It is evil."  
"If you do not give me your hand, I will see it wrenched from its socket tomorrow."  
"Please, my Lord."

He kept his hand outstretched towards mine; I glanced back at the black crystal. A log sparked in the fire and it seem the make the orb shine further, but the fire within it kept on burning and glowing and I felt my hand instinctively reach out to touch it. I felt a strange disconnection from myself, half of me was fighting to keep my hand away and the other was drawn ever strongly to it. Did the globe whisper? I could feel a cool whispering at the back of my mind, as though it spoke to me, as though it called to me.  
'Your heart longs for the flame. Your eye desires the sight.' Suddenly my hand was upon it and it burnt me. It burned every part of my body, flesh and soul. It burned my heart. I tried to pull my hand away, but it was being held there. I screamed, still it would not let me go. My whole mind was going to be ripped open, ripped apart.  
"I want to die." I screamed.  
'We shall come for you, we shall seek you out. I shall fill you with darkness and flame, with anger and pain. You shall know what it is to See, to See the world spread before you, to taste any part of it you desire.' I saw the dark gates of Mordor, the cloaked figure raising his sword, the agonising scream within my mind. I saw the armies bearing down on Minas Tirith, the darkness creeping ever further, the white tree destroyed, the King would no longer return.

"Fool of a man! She is a girl, a child. What did you expect her to see?"  
I opened my eyes, the fire was no longer lit in the grate, but candles had been brought in and the study blazed with light. I was lying on the comfortable, crimson divan opposite the fire, a small blanket placed over me. I saw Lord Denethor cowering in his seat, a great man in white angrily standing over him; around his shoulders was a white cloak and in his hand a long staff. I knew who this man was on sight, despite his back being turned away from me.  
As my eyes became focused and the gloom within my mind lessened I saw another figure crouched next to me, his warm hand covering my own. My fingers trembled as I touched his face, so familiar the relief on seeing him was almost painful. He tenderly reached out and stroked my cheek,  
"I know your face." I whispered, my throat sore and dry as though smoke had robbed the moisture from my tongue.  
"How are you here?" he murmured, those grey eyes taking in every part of my face, carefully watching me. I felt his hand tremble on my cheek. It was seeing his face, so overjoyed and so broken that undid me, I wept.  
"Boromir." He cupped my face gently in his hand and quieten me; Mithrandir strode to his side, the quaking form of Denethor all but forgotten..

"We must be thankful for your brother's sense."  
Boromir nodded then rose to his feet and poured a glass of wine for me,  
"I am sorry…he made me and…" I managed to gasp.  
Mithrandir pressed the glass into my hand and then clasped the other in his. It felt as though he had pressed a damp, cold cloth to my palm. Relief, heady and strong flooded through my veins. Although his eyes showed some kindness, he also had a look of grim determination.  
"Did you tell Him of anything important?" Mithrandir said.  
"I…I don't really know, He just said…" I closed my eyes in pain, not wanting to remember.  
"Think. Did you tell him anything of Faramir or the Rangers? Aragorn?" Boromir asked. I shook my head and he breathed a sigh of relief. He smiled reassuringly at me, then clasped me on the shoulder and pushed me out of the study. I glanced at Lord Denethor, but he did not look at me. I heard his endless mutterings as we left,  
"The West shall fall…this will be the end of all…He comes back, taunting me with visions…My son." Boromir near pushed me from the study, his father's voice growing fainter, though even as we walked down the corridor I heard his last ferocious cry,  
"The Girl…The Girl of the Rivers, she will bring our downfall…She cursed the House of Hurin."


	20. Chapter 20

AH yes, yes, yes, yes! This is so much better than what I had before, chapter twenty one and twenty two are just amazing! Sorry, that's some real bragging, I'm just insanely happy with it and where I'm going with it now... :D Smiles all round, hope you guys enjoy and I will keep saying this now, please keep reviewing, it means you get Hannah love and this story will be so much better. Plus MN I will read your story asap, but I've had an insanely busy week recently, so hopefully I shall read it this week. Thanks xx

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Chapter Twenty

I found my legs could no longer carry me, they were shaking too badly and I felt sick to my stomach. Boromir was now pulling me through corridors; his hand firmly held over mine, but when he turned back to see my pale face and the shakes that ran up and down my body he gently lifted me up and carried me. Mithrandir seemed to pay no heed, but marched down the corridors. I was surprised when we walked past my room and continued onwards. Mithrandir opened a small wooden door into a room. It had a large oak bed, the dark green coverlet intricately designed with pale white swirls, in one corner was a small chest and on the opposite side a desk with a wooden chair. Sitting on the chair, kicking his legs to and fro was another familiar face.  
"Melusida!" Pippen instantly ran over to us and Boromir motioned him to pull the bed cover back. Pippen did so, but stood there for a while gaping. Boromir laid me in the bed and I knew I was not far from sleep, my body ached and my very bones felt weary.

"Seems there is not only one who can pull such a trick as being reborn." Boromir cast a look at Mithrandir, who busied himself lighting a pipe, but gave a small smile and nod.  
"HOW?" exclaimed Pippen.  
I shook my head, "I cannot tell you. I hardly know what happened."  
"Try to put it in some words." Mithrandir said.  
I tried to remember the strange, foggy feeling, of both being half awake and dreaming, "I know when I was in the boat I dreamt my mother and all the women belonging to my house force me under the water, they drowned me…. I saw Her, my family's Goddess, Melusine, she pushed me back into the boat."  
"Did she speak to you?" Mithrandir asked, exhaling the smoke, the scent of it warm and comforting, reminding me of my father's own pipe weed.  
"Yes, she said, 'Neither immortal nor mortal, human, elf or witch. I give you life, my daughter.' Then she kissed my forehead and all the pain and hurt I had once felt vanished."

Mithrandir nodded, but said nothing, merely sucked on his pipe for a few moments. After what felt like a very long pause, where I could feel my eyes drifting closed, he said,  
"Interesting."  
"How can this be possible, Gandalf?" Boromir asked him.  
"Gandalf?" I asked, confused by Cobryn's naming of him as Mithrandir and Boromir's of Gandalf.  
Gandalf smiled, "One of my many names, call me what you wish. But I believe you too hold several names, Lady Nyneve." He chuckled softly and both Boromir and Pippen looked bemused.  
"I had forgotten who I was and so gave myself a new name, though it was not really new at all. It is another name for the Lady of the Lake. If I may call you Gandalf, I would prefer to use my real name." I said.

Gandalf nodded and then turned back to Boromir, "Would that I could answer your question, but alas even the wise do not know everything. The Legend of Melusine, the Stewards, King Isildur is so strange and varied it is hard to tell what is truth and what stems from the creation of myth."  
"You know of me? You know of all of this?" I asked, sitting up and regretting it when my head felt dizzy.  
"Aye, I know. I was well acquainted with your mother and saw your father now and then."  
"But what of Melusine? What of my gifts?"  
Gandalf carefully removed his pipe from his mouth, "You see them as gifts?"  
I opened my mouth to say 'Yes' then reconsidered, half the time I had to hide what I did and the rest I loathed the sights I saw. I gazed down at the bed, gripping the fabric between my fingers, only looking up when I felt Boromir's hand squeeze my shoulder.

"There is some power within you, descended from the Elves and what became of Calaeriel, the blood of your father is of the Dúnedain, your mother's heritage can be traced to the early Stewards of Gondor…your fore-father, is the evil which resides beyond the mountain and is more powerful than any of those mentioned before." Gandalf gaze remained far off and he did not look upon me, I felt a sickness grow in my stomach at the mention of Him. Pippen brought me a mug of cool water; his hand gently patted my own.  
"Evil is not measured by the quality of our blood, but the nobleness of our spirit." Boromir said and I saw a faint smile grow on Gandalf's lips, Boromir suddenly looked away and I recognised he bore the same expression as he had when I found him in Amon Hen. His shame.  
"Indeed, any choice you make now should, and will be, your own." Gandalf said to me. "It is vital that you must believe you have a choice over your powers, both those for the darkness and those meant for good."

My mind was buzzing with questions and thoughts, but my body was too weary for such things and I could not resist lying back on the soft pillows and closing my eyes. I had believed it would be only for a short time, but when I opened them the room was empty, apart from Laredith sleeping by my bed, the pale grey light of morn near hidden by the thick curtains across the balcony. I carefully got up and placed a heavy cloak around my shoulders, I vaguely wondered if it belonged to Boromir and where he was. I opened the door a crack and saw that opposite on a low bench, Cobryn slept, his chin resting on his chest. I wondered how long he had been there, or whether Boromir or Gandalf had guarded the door. I cursed them for leaving, even if it was seemly, I had too many questions.

"Nyneve?" Laredith's sleepy voice murmured across the room and I turned back to her. I crouched by her bed.  
"Laredith, what happened? Where is everyone?"  
"Boromir and Gandalf ordered Cobryn and I to guard you. It is well known now that Boromir has returned, but the Steward…" she blushed and nervously chewed her lip.  
"What?"  
"He insists Gandalf is…that Gandalf taunts him with visions of his son, urging him to release the role of Steward and usurp his power. The Council are driving themselves mad, some say the Steward has lost all power because of his depravity, others say he still has his wits to rule…and Boromir is attempting to gain his father's recognition, he cannot have the Seat of Office if he believes his father can regain his sanity."

Frankly, I thought such an event unlikely, but I pushed the thought aside.  
"And Gandalf and Pippen, where are they?"  
"Urging the Council to name Boromir as Steward, for the safety of the City. There are those who say that these times are too troublesome for the passing of Office…Boromir has already ordered his men to remove citizens from the lower levels and to reinforce the Guard already there. He does not seek his father's blessing in that respect."  
"And the Palantír?" I asked, but Laredith only looked confused.  
"I have heard of such things in stories, but I thought them all lost or destroyed."  
I sighed and stretched my back, despite my long sleep I still felt weary, I got up and went to the chest where a hairbrush, comb and some clothes of mine had been laid out. After I had washed, Laredith got up and helped me remove my old clothes from yesterday and helped me into an underskirt and then the overlaying dress. I swiftly brushed back my hair, ignoring Laredith's shocked tone and her insistence that the Ladies of Court did not wear their hair down, unless very young. I waited for Laredith to dress and then marched from the room, her on my heels.

Cobryn blinked his eyes open on seeing my appearance and he stiffly got up.  
"Cobryn…I…" It suddenly felt painful, knowing that I had once known this boy, that he had kissed me…It felt strange, as though I had purposely lied to him.  
He gave a swift bow, "My Lady."  
I shifted my eyes away from his accusatory gaze, "Have you broken your fast?"  
"Nay, I was given my duties." he sneered, "To remain here until you woke. Now that you have," Cobryn turned to leave, but I grabbed hold of his sleeve.  
"Please. I never meant to hurt you."  
He glared down at his feet, the scowl deepening the lines on his face, "How could you not know me?"  
"I could not remember anything, but you did not know me either. It was only last night I woke and saw the light of that place, saw it crack the sky…I knew. But I cannot understand how I knew not, nor why. Why did you not recognise me?" I retorted.  
"I did, at least I thought I did. But my mind convinced me you were dead, I had heard tale of orcs attacking a village near Rivendell, of everyone who had perished. I either could not or would not believe you were alive…and you did not look like the girl I had known."  
Well of course I would not, four years had passed and more besides, but I was still unsure by this cold, heavy hearted man. Cobryn seemed quieter and reserved, though whether this was down to his life as a soldier or something else I could not tell.  
"Come, we should eat something and discuss this." I said, Cobryn said nothing, merely bowed his assent. Laredith mutely followed us again.

* * *

We ate breakfast in silence for the most part, for all my questions on the whereabouts of Gandalf, Pippen and Boromir or even Boromir's father I received few satisfactory answers. After a while I looked towards Cobryn, still deeply absorbed with his plate. Did he desire no answers to my appearance, to how I survived or even where my brothers were?  
"Do you not have more questions to ask me?" I said.  
He sat a while in thought, "Many, yes. But I do not know what good they will do if I find out the answers."  
"I would rather you tell me…"  
Cobryn glared at me and his voice was akin to shards of ice, "If Gandalf does not hold the answers, why would you?"

Laredith looked up nervously at us both, then down to her bowl. I bit my bottom lip to hold back my anger, I did not know why I was so furious with Cobryn – I had full right to be – yet my anger felt strangely hot and potent. A peculiar lingering desire filled me to smash his head into the table, yet I quelled it as soon as it bubbled under my skin. The idea sickened me, yet I could not deny the satisfaction I would have felt if I had.  
"I know myself." I muttered angrily.  
He snorted with contempt, "So you say, yet you forgot yourself and recognised no one here…not even someone who had served in your household and had once…" he looked ashamed and tailed off.  
"I am sorry for that, but trust me, it was not my intention to forget…" the words tasted false and bitter in my mouth, but I forced myself to say them.  
"Ha! Do you really expect me to believe this nonsense of rebirth and forgetfulness…?"  
"You found me!" I bellowed, slamming my spoon down on the plate and rising to my feet. Cobryn swiftly followed my example.

"That proves nothing. You claimed Boromir was dead, yet he is here, alive and well…and I damned that I ever kissed your mouth…" he drew ragged breaths in and glared at me, "There is something foul about you, something rotten…When we found you the men all believed you to be a spirit of some kind. I recognised your features, but not you. You had been dead to me a long time and I was not about to believe you could possibly be alive…and Faramir was right, you are not entirely here. You are not a woman of the Earth. There is something about you that no man can govern, no man can control. Something beyond the nature of this Earth."  
"I have no desire to be controlled by any man, least of all you!" I shouted, I had tightened my hands into fists, the nails pricking my skin. Cobryn looked as though he would greatly enjoy slamming my head against the table; Laredith was practically cowering under it.

"I see that all is not well this morning?" Boromir's voice said quietly behind me. I turned to look at him come into the room, while Cobryn gave a swift bow. I nearly gasped on seeing the white tree emblazoned upon his chest against the dark tunic, his stance and face showing his pride of his city. He watched us both, hands clasp behind his back, the black of his breeches and dark blue of his tunic in vivid contrast to the white stone behind him. His eyes rested on mine for a moment and I saw why Faramir loved his brother so and why the men followed him. I had an aching desire to plunge myself into Boromir's arms and have him comfort me, but his watchful expression seem to show little sympathy towards the current situation.  
"Cobryn, get some rest and then join the guards on the Eastern Wall."  
"Yes sir." Cobryn gave another bow and marched off, his eyes icily glaring into mine.  
"Mistress Laredith, will you remove the Lady Melusida's belongings and place them in another room? Away from my father."  
Laredith looked a little pink and gave a very quick curtsey before running off. Boromir turned to look at me, his eyes both kindly and reproachful.

"What was that all about?" he said, picking up an apple and looking as though he couldn't quite decide whether to eat it or not.  
"Nothing…" I muttered.  
He walked round the table again and calmly placed a hand under my chin, forcing me to look up at him. My stomach clenched in anticipation and my head felt dizzyingly hopeful. I remembered the dream I had the night before. But when I glanced up at him I felt a blush creep to my cheeks and I hurriedly look away, even though I believed it would be stupid if he even knew or cared about the dream I had.  
"And now the truth?" he said.  
"Cobryn is just angry I did not know him, he thinks I am lying and that…that there is something wrong with me."

I bit the inside of my cheek, but still felt foolish tears well up. I was tired of fear and hatred, and finding people who I could trust was overwhelming. I furiously rubbed my eyes and once more looked back up at him. He gently held my arm, bringing me nearer to him. It calmed my anger and tears certainly, yet there was that odd swooping feeling when I felt the warmth of his hand through my sleeve.  
"My apologies on behalf of my father, you have not had an easy time here. Things will be better now."  
I sniffed and smiled, "Don't lie; I know you have been preparing the troops you have here and throughout Gondor in preparation for battle."  
He smiled regretfully at that, "Aye, that is true. Now sit, we need to talk." He guided me back to the bench and wooden table, sitting opposite me and clasping his hands.

"Firstly, your brothers, Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas and Merry are all well."  
I silently thanked the Valar for protecting my family and the Fellowship.  
"But of course they all believe you to be dead. I will not play false with you, your brothers have taken your death very badly and we will not be able to send a messenger through in time to reach them. We must hope they join Rohan when we call upon them."  
"Will Rohan answer us?" I asked.  
"We must pray to the Valar that they do. I have already attempted to persuade my father for the beacons to be lit, but whether he consents or whether we do so through trickery is unimportant; we must have Rohan by our side…" Here he was a soldier, a furrowed line upon his brow as his mind wandered from the placement of guards to his father's wellbeing. The purpose made him look better; his movements easier and clearer, his face hid no malice. He gave me a smile.

"What do you think of?" he said.  
"You look better, than when last I saw you."  
"You were dying when last you saw me. I'm not surprised I look better." He chuckled and swung his leg over the bench, pulling me down beside him. Avoiding his eyes I folded my hand over his, resting on the table top. I felt him tense beneath my touch.  
"I didn't mean that." I muttered, remembering that wild gleam in his eyes, the poison that had seeped into his spirit. His attack on Frodo and the fear in his eyes. He picked my hands up in his, making me look up at him. His expression down cast, but not overly shamed face. His grey eyes focused intently upon my hands.  
"Gandalf spoke to me about that, he said guilt and temptation make us human. To feel them was enough torment for my punishment. I knew there were times when your brothers, Dòmhnall especially, blamed me for your death…in many ways rightly so."  
"They shouldn't have done that," I said, "No one was to blame, but the orcs we fought."  
Boromir gave a small smile, "I am grateful for your forgiveness and I hope I will see Frodo again to beg for his. "

We sat in silence for a moment; it felt strange to have his warm, large hands holding mine. My dreams had been vivid, but never like this. Warm flesh, heat emanating from his body. I had to stop myself from reaching out and touching his neck, feeling the steady pulse beneath skin. I bit my lip and looked away from his gaze again, his hands suddenly feeling too heavy in my hold. Even when he had first took hold of them I knew what I felt, the hot rush of blood and a dizzying light headedness, I wanted him. My cheeks flamed with embarrassment at how strong a hold he had over me. I needed to think of something else.  
"Melusida?" he put his hand under my chin and lifted it, so my eyes were captivated by his again. I could feel my eyes drawn to his lips, the terrifying wonder of what it would be like to be kissed by him. Perhaps he recognised my look from other women or felt something himself, but he put my hands firmly back on the table and stiffly got up.

"I am not someone you should want, Melusida."  
I curse myself for letting my eyes fill with tears and fiercely blink them away before looking up at him. His eyes grow gentler and he kneels by my side.  
"Who are you to say what I want?" I muttered angrily and Boromir gives a soft chuckle.  
"Firstly, I am a battle-hardened man, not someone who would delight your ears with poetry or flowery words of love…"  
"I do not need poetry or flowery words."  
"Secondly, I saw what I became and I am ashamed of it. I would not be fitting of the kindness and affection you could give me." he says, his face become a little more grim and his eyes glance away from my own.  
"That was in the past, everyone was tempted by the Ring and I know you were more than others, but there is still hope. I have told you, I forgave you for that."  
"Which is good of you, more than good. But I cannot forgive myself, not just yet Melusida. I am not a man who finds it easy to forget his faults, which have led to the downfall of others. Besides, I am a man twice your age. You deserve someone younger, someone less…bitter and cold."

He gets up again and goes to the door, "I must see to the men, if I see Pippen I will tell him to attend to you and…"  
"I'm sure Pippen can be put to better use than 'attending' me." I said reasonably, I did not need a guard or an escort around me.  
Boromir shrugged, "Gandalf's orders."  
"Gandalf's orders?" I frowned.  
"It is meant only for your safeguarding…"  
I went over to him, "What is?"  
Boromir nervously licked his lips, "He believes you must be guarded, that Sauron may try to harm you or us in some way, he may send you false visions or torment you. It will be done for your safety."  
"Boromir, He has never done such a thing and the guarding of the city is more important than my own comfort."  
It was easy to tell my words spoke greatly to him, Boromir must have sacrificed his own comfort a hundred times over for the safety of this city. He smiled somewhat and offered me his arm, I placed my hand in the crook of his elbow.  
"I will take you back to your room, wait for Pippen there. We may find you some employment if you believe that would ease your spirit."


	21. Chapter 21

Hey everyone, thanks so much for reading and reviewing, especially thanks to MN (I am reading your story at the mo, but I've so little time on my hands, it's taking quite some time) romeoandjuliet4-ever and ZabuzasGirl. I know I've said this before, but reviews are a God-send, I love criticism. So please tell me what you think, even if you're just guessing what might happen next! Anyway, this chapter is a little shorter than others, but that could potentially mean I update again sooner (not today or tomorrow, but midweek)!

In other news, I am already debating a prequel to this. Probably focusing on Melusida's mother. But that won't come about till my other work is finished. Thanks again for reading, Hannah xxx

* * *

Chapter Twenty One

"You must stay here; it will do none of us any favours to have you harmed." Boromir says firmly. We arrive at my chambers, Laredith gives a swift curtsey and then practically runs inside the room, I hear Boromir give a faint chuckle at that.  
"Boromir, the battle has not even begun."  
He smiles, "Yet I know you too well, your brothers would never forgive me if I allowed you to sneak off and fight. If you are injured or worse what would I say to them? That for a fleeting moment you lived, but not long enough to see them."  
I sigh impatiently, I know he is right. But it aggravates me to know even Pippen is set tasks and duties, while I am expected to twiddle my thumbs and roll up bandages or some other meaningless task.  
"Yes, my Lord." I mutter.  
I see him give a mock start, "When did I become a lord to you?"

I try to think of some response that will neither make me sound like a whiny child or a lovesick maid, but I cannot think of any so I just press my lips together.  
"Is this because of what I said to you earlier?"  
I feel anger flood through my veins, 'How could it not be, dolt of a man?' I think, but I bite my tongue and just give a shrug. He lets out a small sigh and I find myself cautiously glancing up at him, he feels my gaze and I turn my head away too slowly before he smiles pityingly. I glower at him.  
"So when should I decide to come out of my room, before a cave troll knocks on my door or when he smashes through it?"  
"Melusida…"

I turn to look at him, feeling an ache in my stomach when I do. I lower my eyes again. Why did his voice have to whisper my name like that? Caught between a sigh of longing and regret. He placed his hands on my shoulders. I feel their warm strength, heavy on my light dress and every inch of me just longs to plunge myself in his arms and have his mouth on mine.  
"I will not do this to you; I would be a fool if I did. A callous fool at that. I will not have you willing go to the bed of a man who's proved himself to be weak and is twice your age. You will thank me for this when you are married with children at thirty and with a vital man, rather than one who would be fifty."  
"Fifty is not so very old. There are younger women with older men." I murmur, my eyes remaining fixed on the stone flooring. I hear his laugh and then his hand comes up and brushes away a strand of hair that has fallen over my face. There is a soft hiss against my skin as his hand deftly touches my cheek.

"Rarely from their own choosing. And think on this, when you are forty I will be sixty. Sixty is quite some age for a woman who would be only forty."  
"So you don't want me." I keep my voice deliberately measured and calm. He remains silent for some time, before answering.  
"I fear perhaps I do, a little. But that will pass in time. You hardly need me, there will be a thousand men waiting at your door and begging Hamnet to allow them to see you. I will wager if we get back your titles and lands, then we could have Kings and Princes…" the jokey tone of his voice makes the air catch in my lungs and I give a dry sob, his hands come back to my arms, tightly holding me.  
"You only think you want me, you do not really…" he continues.  
"How do you know what I want and what I don't want?" I exclaim.

I am trying to stop myself from weeping, but my eyes are already filling with tears. I hate it when I cry. Through my tears I can see his face half sympathising with me and trying not to bring me closer to him; yet even as he fights with the other half of his mind, his eyes look temptingly towards me. I know now I must take my chance and I pull myself into his arms, pressing myself against his chest, breathing in his warmth and scent. For a little time his battle continues, until he finally puts his arms around my waist and holds me so fiercely against him.  
"Why do you deny me?" I ask, when I have finally gained a little more control and fought back my tears.  
"Because I do not want you to suffer any more than you already have...and I learnt once what it was to lose you, I cannot go through that again."  
"Then keep me at your side." I say, my nose pressed against the hollow of his neck.

I feel his hands travel up the length of my back, gently caressing me. He finally reaches me neck and pulls away a little to look at me. He doesn't say anything, just gazes at me, before cupping my face in his hands and kissing me. It is not like the kiss in my dream, far rougher and deeper than the one he gave me there, but it makes my soul sing and my heart long for him even further. His lips gently trail along my own.  
"I hope that will satisfy you a little till I return." He breathes against me gently; I nod dazedly and open my eyes. He kisses me once more. "I must go. You will be in my thoughts."

I watch him move down the corridor, until he turns the corner and I go back inside my room. Laredith has brought all my possessions and the dresses I have been given. She has wrapped the mirror back in its velvet cover and put it in the chest. I was almost tempted to take it out, to know what would happen, what Gondor would face, but I knew it was far too dangerous to do so and there and then I wished I had my cards. It would be safe to look at those cards, to feel their steady weight in my hands, that strange humming sensation within them and pressing my fingers so close it was as though they had their own pulse, their own heartbeat. Laredith busied herself with pouring some water from a pitcher and handed me the glass.  
"Cobryn was too harsh this morning, he probably meant nothing by it, he always grows tetchy before battle."

I decided against saying that Cobryn had been a shade more than tetchy this morning; he had practically cursed my family's name. I took a sip. The water tasted strange on my tongue, a little bitter. Perhaps it was from the sulphurous air, though as I inspected the glass I saw no trace.  
"The beacons are lit, someone has lit the beacons." I heard Laredith cry and as I looked up she pointed to the mountains, where little flickering flames were appearing; so far away they looked like candles. "Gondor calls for aid. They call on Rohan." she breathed, her excitement evident.  
"Denethor cannot be angry with Rohan if he has agreed to summon them; he must have regained some sense." I said.  
"I doubt this is the work of Denethor." Laredith replied.  
I nodded, remembering Boromir's words on how, if necessary, he would find some ways of lighting the beacon through trickery.  
"They would have probably been lit sooner had the councillors agreed to Boromir, but they spend half their time arguing between themselves. They've always conceded to Lord Denethor's mind." she said.

"Laredith, I know it to be a strange question. But do you or any women in your family possess some reading cards? I know I should not touch them, but I need to have some idea what will happen and I dare not look in my mirror." I said, the aching longing to once more feel the same magic inside me growing stronger every minute.  
"I do not believe that we do, but I know of someone who does and they will not mind lending you them." She bobbed a curtsey and left, but something troubled me by her hastiness. I had first dismissed her quietness and the worry on her face as nothing more than her fear of what lay ahead. But I felt certain she would confess her fear to me.

I frowned and sat down on the bed, taking another sip of the water. There would be soon too many worries to count and for now I would dwell upon that sweet kiss Boromir gave me. I shivered with pleasure and smiled to myself, happening to glance down at the cup in my hand; I had nearly finished the glassful. I got up from the bed, it seemed strange that my throat still felt parched, but perhaps the water was saltier in some way. As I picked up the jug my head suddenly swam and my vision blurred before my eyes. I could feel the jug drop from my fingers, the metal clang loudly against the stone floor. I had not realised I had fallen, until the spilt water began to seep into the skirts of my dress. I found myself vaguely wondering whether I had been poisoned or whether they had simply drugged me. There was not enough time to debate such a question, the dark grey clouds grew darker outside my window and the fire in the grate simply flickered out of existence.


	22. Chapter 22

So my promise of updating midweek went out of the window! I'm so sorry, I completely forgot. In truth I have been writing more of this, I've just been having trouble with it. So thanks for your patience. Again (if I remember!) this chapter is quite short, so I might update sooner, rather than later. Thanks for reading and for guessing what will happen next! Lots of love xx

* * *

Chapter Twenty Two  
Boromir

"My soul does not rest easy with doing this." I said, lifting Melusida from the chair where Laredith had removed her sodden dress and had changed her into a clean nightdress. Her head lolled back against my shoulder and I had that uneasy feeling of looking at another mask of death, although her breathing remained steady and deep.  
"I'm afraid it must be done; this treachery sickens my heart as much as it does yours Boromir. I doubt not that Melusida would agree to such a thing, if she believed it would save the city. But if her mind and soul has taken some possession of Sauron's own, then we cannot rest assured that he would not fight against it."  
Pippen drew back the covers and I gently placed her in the bed, her face so peaceful and calm, a gentle smile on her lips. Eru, what I would give to have her warm smile, the brightness of her eyes and her mouth so yielding under my own.

I suddenly remembered her mother, she bore the same smile. She had been telling Faramir and I a tale…a woman sleeping, a goddess or was it a princess? Or perhaps I had it confused, was it not the tale where a goddess stole a mortal from the earth, because his beauty so delighted her. She cast a spell so he never woke and the glade he laid in kept him forever young, yet each night she would return to him and he would dream of her kissing him…I had dreamt of her kissing me. The first time when Pippen touched the Palantír. I had dreamt of her walking amongst us, her skin glowing like the moon…she had knelt by my side and told me not to fear the shadows. It was when I began to see myself as less wicked, the chance of redemption. The second time was even stranger, in Rivendell, we talked of choice and I had known there and then…what had I known? I didn't dare even think I loved her. Certainly I desired her, but I knew even as I conceded that, it was a different desire. Different from the women I had bedded. More protective perhaps; I was more aware of her brothers' love for her, their desire not to see her harmed.

"Boromir." Gandalf's sharp tone brought me out of my dreams.  
"I don't like it either," muttered Pippen, "It's something Grima Wormtongue would do, not us."  
I admired his fortitude and clasped him gently on the shoulder.  
"Sometimes such things must be done, for the good of a whole. She will wake in time." Gandalf said. Though as he and Pippen left, I could not help thinking that if the battle was lost Melusida may never wake at all. Perhaps to be stabbed in sleep was better than to have her slain on the battlefield. I swiftly kissed her again and then left the room. It felt infinitely worse dropping the heavy bar on her door, imprisoning her in the room through no fault of her own. Not for the first time or the last I cursed my father's name and his selfish nature. Finally, I nodded to Pippen, who was now Melusida's guard, and then made my way to the ramparts with Gandalf to check our enforcements. I certainly did not deserve her forgiveness now.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty Three

My tongue felt thick and heavy in my mouth, my skin too tight around my lips. I tried to open my eyes, but I could only raise them a little and when I did the room seemed so dark I could not tell I had. My body felt aching and sinking almost into the bed, though I must have slept quite deeply, I had not been disturbed by dreams or any movement outside my room. I pulled my hand to my head and rubbed my forehead, the dull ache remained behind my eyes. Eventually I pull myself up to a sitting position, though my head is spinning and I feel bone tired. I cautiously place my feet on the solid ground, keeping a firm hand on the bed so as not to fall over.

There was no fire lit in the grate or any candles, so I pulled the curtains back even though the sky was clouded and dark. I stared down, my mouth dropping open on seeing the fields surrounding Minas Tirith filled with a dark army, flickering flames among their ranks and a low roaring as dull thuds of flying debris from catapults hit the lower levels. My hands gripped on the window sill, why had no one woken me? Whatever my history I could still help in some way, even if Boromir insisted I did not fight.

I ran to the doorway, ignoring the plate of food and jug of ale by my bed. I lifted the latch and pulled on the door, but the heavy oak would not move, no matter how hard I strained against it. I felt the air catch in my lungs as panic gripped me, but I refused to allow myself into becoming hysterical and pulled even harder against the wooden handle. Eventually giving up, I slammed my fist on the wood, hoping to gain someone's attention, a servant or guard. My fist ached dully and was sore by the time I rested with no hope of anyone answering me. I grabbed the jug of ale and drank, not bothering to pour it into the glass beside it. I rubbed my hand before standing up and once more hammering on the door.

"Hello? Is anyone there? The door won't budge, I'm locked in and…" I suddenly stopped, my hand still raised and just about to pound the door another time. With a sickening sensation in my stomach, it dawned me that either the door had jammed shut, or more likely someone had locked me in. My throat constricted and I sat on the bed trying to calm myself. There would be no reason why anyone would lock me in; if they so wished me to sit in my room and not go anywhere they could simply ask. Doubtless I would have put up a fight, but perhaps if it was Boromir or Gandalf telling me it needed to be done I might have consented to it. There was no reason to think anyone meant me ill or this was anything other than an accident. I got up to try the door again.

It was impossible to tell how long I spent hammering on the door and calling for anyone who could be outside the door, it felt like hours, but it could have been less. When I had admitted defeat I ran back to the window, the battle still raging on, the small guards and armed forces of Gondor fighting valiantly against numbers far beyond their own. I squinted my eyes, trying to see if Faramir's men were amongst them, but they were too far away and the night seemed a darker shade of black than was possible.

I leaned out of the window and looked into the dark abyss; even when I looked back up to the sheets on my bed and the drapes I could tell there was no way I would reach the level below without breaking my ankle or foot or badly bruising myself and that was the minimum injury I would receive if I was lucky or landed somewhere soft. Unlikely in a city of stone. Another idea seized me and I ran from the window to the desk in the corner of the room, desperately pulling out drawers and compartments, trying to find some paper and ink. If I could find some paper at least I could manage a message by spitting in the ashes of the fire and writing with my finger. But no matter my frantic searching I could find nothing. I considered writing on a sheet, but doubted it would slip easily under the door and I sank down onto the bed. There were no two ways about it. My door was barred; there was no spare paper or even any books lying about. Every means to seal me into the room had been seen to, I was trapped.

I don't know how long I spent in the room. It could have been hours or days; the darkness covering the sky was unrelenting. I knew I slept and ate when I grew hungry, I was worried that after I had finished the plates of food, they would not feed me again, but I pushed the nonsensical doubts away and continued pacing my room back and forth. Sometimes I would linger near the window, watching the raging battle, hearing the far away screams drawing closer, wondering how long it would take for them to take over each level. Time seemed meaningless in this empty and darkened room.

I had avoided the chest in my room with every turn I made, but now and then my footsteps would take me nearer and I found my hand resting on the dark wood, tracing the pattern of leaves on the lid. My spine tingled as my fingers touched the design and the sudden intense pain behind my eyes made me flinch. I pulled my hand away, breathing heavily. They had left my mirror in there. I walked to the fireplace, twisting my hands tightly and glancing back to the chest. Whether it was a strange test or they had simply forgotten to remove it, I could not help but be troubled by it. My pacing became more frantic and when I finally glanced down at my hands I saw I had rubbed them near raw. I dug my fingernails into my skin and bit my lower lip till it bled. I could feel a scream building up in my chest and how it hurt to breathe. I needed to get out.

I ran back to the door, throwing all my weight against it.  
"Let me out, let me out, let me out!" I screamed. The panic I felt was blinding me and as my hands scrabbled with the lock, I could feel my stomach sicken and my back tighten. The overwhelming fear made my body shudder and I plunged myself at the door, striking my body against it as hard as I could. I could feel wings curling beneath my back, pushing against the flesh, straining to be released. If they did not let me out, I would die. I staggered and fell to my knees, the intense pain growing sharply in my back and in my mind. I screamed. I was only vaguely aware of running footsteps outside the door, before my screaming reached a louder volume. My body convulsed against the stone flooring and I hit my head painfully against the wooden chest.

I grasped the lid and pulled myself up, I could feel a smile flooding my mouth and I pushed the chest open and reached for my mirror. As the velvet wrapping fell away and my hands connected with the cool glass, I could feel a burning fire roar through my veins. The pain was so intense I could not even see, just a white, blinding light and then Him; cutting into my soul, ripping it from my body, playing all my memories, dreams and visions, all my fears in front of my eyes. Then the Eye and every part of my skin felt burnt, every part of my body sore and red raw against His hatred and anger. He would kill me, if I refused to be His.

"And you will be. You will be mine." His voice whispered to me and though I longed to clamp my hands over my ears, my hands spasmed violently, I couldn't raise them to my head. And I could feel His anger and hatred and it was mine, pouring through my blood, blinding me to light. I hated him and every person I knew, for they had brought me here and I was no one but an unwilling victim, a pawn in their game. I wanted hot blood washing over my skin. The world went black.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty Four  
Boromir

"Boromir…Boromir!"  
I turned to see Cobryn running through the streets towards me, his chest heaving and his eyes wild and frightened. I nearly drew back from shock of seeing him so distraught. I made my way through my men, still battling on and clasped Cobryn's shoulders.  
"Speak man, what is it?"  
"Melusida, she was screaming and saying things…Gandalf was right, she was trying to break down the door and her voice…" he took in a shuddering gasp, "It changed, it's deeper, stranger."  
I turned to my second captain, "I am needed in the Citadel, I will return shortly, keep the men's spirits up and keep fighting. Do not let them enter the second level."  
"Sir…!" he called to me, but I was already following Cobryn up the stairs.

"Laredith has gone to fetch her grandmother, Sewya, the old healer. It was said she knew of such things like this; ghosts that pervaded the soul."  
"This is no simple spirit, Cobryn. Where are Gandalf and Pippen?" I asked.  
"I sent Pippen to fetch Gandalf, but I have not seen them this past hour."  
"And my brother?"  
Cobryn paled slightly, "Gone to the houses of healing, he was hit by arrows. He runs a fever, but the healers said he will recover."  
I exhaled quickly, "Thank the Valar for his strength."

We had horses and so made it up to the Citadel quickly, I was no sooner off my horse than running inside, Cobryn quickly on my heels. As soon as we reached the door, I heard her cries and shuddered at the sound. Strange, strangulated cries in her throat, animalistic. She was making sounds, half way between a roar and a bark. I waited till I heard the sounds grow a little fainter then quickly took the bar off the door and swiftly marched in. She whipped round to see me as soon as Cobryn and I entered the room. I swallowed, the once sane girl was gone, instead was left a monster. Her whole body shuddered and convulse, the eyes were entirely black, her mouth hanging open and spit drooling at the corners. Her hands curled into claws. Her long, beautiful hair hanging in strands and sticking to her forehead and mouth.

"Melusida, you know us." I said, attempting to find some shred of humanity left within her. She stiffly cocked her head to one side, the movement seeming so monstrous it made my hands shake. I clenched them and eased my breathing. This would be a harder battle than any I had faced before.  
"Melusida…" I said again. She smiled, a manic snarl across her face and her feet tottered towards me. Cobryn put his hand on my chest to draw me back, but I held out my arms for her. I hoped she would recognise me; know me and the affection I bore for her. Her hand gripped my sleeve, the knuckles sore and bleeding, her fingernails caked in blood. I pulled my eyes away and looked back up to those hollow eyes. She smiled again, then suddenly drew her hand back and slashed it across my face. My cheek stung fiercely and I knew she had cut the skin, she launched herself against me, the surprise knocking me backwards and she sunk her teeth into my neck. I let out a cry of shock as my blood oozed against her mouth, but Cobryn was quick and pulled her off, grabbing her arms behind her back so she whimpered and struggled in his grasp.

"Ah here she is."  
I turned to see an old woman, who I presumed to be Sewya, and Laredith come into the room. Sewya carried a small box and few bags with her; she set them upon the table, while Melusida growled in Cobryn's arms. Laredith quickly tore the bed sheet into strips and handed me some for my neck. I thanked her, but Melusida had only grazed the surface, she had not bitten deep. The scratch stung like the blazes.  
"Now, if you'd be so good Captain Boromir, as to fetch that chair," Sewya gestured to one of the wooden chairs in the room, I dumbly picked it up and she pointed to the end of the bed. Sewya seemed remarkably calm, but it didn't help my nerves. I placed the chair down and then helped Cobryn wrestle Melusida into the seat. She veered about wildly and snarled when we placed our hands on her arms. Cobryn swore when she kicked him in the stomach. Laredith tied her hands and feet down to the chair.

Sewya was rummaging in her box, muttering while she did,  
"The beasts don't like Elven water, it burns them. Tis too pure for their foul nature."  
She turned round with a small bottle in her hand, unstopping the lid.  
"If you gentlemen could hold her shoulders and keep her still for me." Sewya said, then after we had done so, she pulled back her hand and splashed Melusida's face with the water. Melusida screamed like she had been burnt, writhing in the chair. Then turned her head toward Sewya and spat,  
"I will pour your blood down the street, you witch, I will damn and curse your soul!" Her voice, once so soft and clear, was guttural, low and deep in her chest. It was near the voice of a man, not a young woman. Her eyes remained fixed on Sewya's.

Sewya gestured to Laredith to fetch another bottle, containing a foul smelling concoction of a dark green, I saw Laredith's hand visibly shake, but when I suggested she leave the room she shook her head. Cobryn held Melusida's head back, though again she writhed and screamed in the chair.  
"Drink this, Melusida. Drink this, it will help." Sewya said, pushing the cup towards her lips.  
I hated myself for forcing her back in the chair and pushing her mouth open, but I convinced myself I did not know this girl. She and Melusida were not one and the same. It was hard though, seeing her look so like Melusida, the same body and face, even if it was contorted and the roars ripped through the room. Sewya poured a little down her throat and she screamed even louder, her voice becoming more wraith like in its screams. She forced her head away from my grip and spat out the potion. Her lips curled like a beast.

Sewya remained watching her, while Cobryn and I struggled to hold her down. I was trying to be careful not to hurt her or break her bones, but her strength surprised even me. I was scared she was going to break her own limbs while she struggled wildly in the chair.  
"Is there nothing more you can do?" I asked, desperately holding Melusida back as she attempted to reach out of her chair and bite Sewya.  
"There's a pray that I know of, I can try, but I hardly know…she seems so strong."  
"Do it." Cobryn cried, before I could answer her.

She mixed some cold ash, foul smelling herbs and oil in a pot, then bade us keep her head still while she drew a mark upon Melusida's forehead. I wondered how old it was, for I did not recognise it. Had my brother been here would he recognise it? Had my brother been here he would probably say this treatment was monstrous, that there had to be a better way of reaching Melusida, than old, superstitious nonsense. But I did not know what else to do. Where was Gandalf? Melusida began her struggles and crying once more, she retched at the strong smell of the herbs. The mixture still on her fingers Sewya made several other marks on Melusida's chest.

"No. No! I will cut you alive, woman, I will slash and split your bones." Melusida screamed at her in the same rough voice. Sewya made no appearance of fear, she placed her hand over the mark on Melusida's forehead and began speaking lowly.  
"By the sight of almighty Eru, I command you to show yourself…Leave now, Sauron, the inventor and master of all deceit, the enemy of humanity's salvation. Be humbled under the powerful hand of Eru tremble and flee - I invoke by us the sacred and terrible name at which those down below tremble."

The sounds of her screams were worse than those of a ringwraith, it was as though my blood froze rapidly and I longed to clasp my hands to my ears, as I knew so many of my men did when they heard those deathly cries. Her own voice mingled with that of the Witchking's screams beyond the window. Her body convulsed rapidly and then she lay still, her head lolling back in the crook of my arm, her mouth still hanging open, her chest heaving with air.  
"Untie her." I said to Cobryn, he made no move, "Cobryn, I told you to untie her."  
"Should we not leave her bonds? What if He comes back?" Cobryn said.  
"It is done, it is ended." I glared at him, then turned to look at Laredith and her grandmother. Neither of them moved. I shifted Melusida's head, so it rested on her chest. I undid the ropes on her wrist and cut the ones binding her legs to the chair. She whimpered when I lifted her and placed her in the bed.

"If you will do nothing take the ripped bed sheets, give them to the houses of healing. Cobryn find Gandalf and ask him how we fare." I said, not bothering to hide my irritation with them. Her face was so pale and her form so small against the wide expanse of the bed.  
"You should not remain with her alone." Sewya said.  
"So will you stay with her? Laredith? Cobryn?" I looked to them each in turn, I saw a visible shudder run through Laredith and she hurriedly picked up the bedding.  
"Cobryn once you are done, return here and guard the door. We shall lock it again, but I think the worse is over."

He bowed his consent and then ran from the room. I handed the torn bed sheet to Laredith and thanked Sewya, she said not a word and swiftly packed up the box. Before she left she turned back to me.  
"I could bleed her, to calm her down."  
"That won't be necessary, thank you, Madam Sewya." I glanced towards Melusida, now lying quietly on the bed, except for the steady movements of her chest, her eyes glazed over. Sewya sucked in her cheeks and shook her head.  
"If you need me, call on me again. Foolish girl, should not be meddling in witchcraft."  
"Thank you, Madam. But this could not be prevented, it was no ordinary witchcraft." I said, a little icily.  
Sewya shrugged, then followed her granddaughter out from the room.

I sighed wearily, it could not have been more than a few minutes, but struggling with Melusida had proved exhausting. Or perhaps I had already been and was now aware of it, we had been battling since the evening and dawn must surely be approaching soon. I rubbed my eyes and leaned heavily against the cold fireplace, placing my forehead against the cool stone and briefly closing my eyes, hearing only the sounds of her laboured breathing.  
"Eru save us." I muttered, then heard a shift in the bed. I looked back round to her. Melusida was sitting up in the bed, her eyes large and frightened. They had returned to their normal colour, but fear was etched over her features. I went to her side immediately, pulling her closely into my arms, careful of avoiding several large bruises already forming on her arms and chest.

She hung in my arms, her body small and frail. I felt her body shaking with sobs.  
"It is over, you are safe." I said.  
"Boromir," she managed through bloodied lips, "He was in my head, He wouldn't let me go, He made me want to do things, terrible things…I'm so frightened." She briefly touched my cheek and then my neck, her hand stopping at the hastily improvised bandage, spotted with blood. Her mouth dropped open, "Did I do this?"  
"No, He did. But it is over, it does not matter."

Tears trickled forlornly down her cheeks and I brushed them aside, I placed a firm kiss on her cheek; that overwhelming sense of protection fuelling my blood, I wanted to keep her safe from monsters inside her mind and outside in the world.  
"You are safe." I said again, but she silently shook her head. I rocked her back and forth. Her eyes almost closing, but she opened them once more.  
"You will not lock me up; you will not let him take me again? I'm not safe here Boromir, if He tries to take me again He will not let me go, He will take over me or have me kill myself. Because I cannot stand that pain and hatred again, if He tries, I cannot bear it."  
"You will not be taken over again, you are strong Melusida. I know you are strong and Gandalf will be here soon. He will protect you."

As another echoing cry of the Ringwraith was heard over Minas Tirith, it made Melusida shudder. Then following the ghostly wail, a low bellowing call of horns. I look up, wild hope seizing my stomach and gently placing her upon the bed.  
"I believe we may be both safe now." I say softly and go to the window. My heart soars with joy on the sight, the Rohirrim crowned on the hill with sunlight behind them, their armour glowing bright and fierce. The sun glinted over the horizon, streaks of red and gold lighting the sky and casting the earth around us in a warm glow. Their numbers were greater, far beyond our own.  
"The Rohirrim have come." I call to Melusida; I do not even take my eyes away as they begin a charge down the hill towards the orcs, some staying in their ranks, but most fleeing as the onslaught comes towards them like a wave.  
"We are saved."

Melusida's chuckle should have warned me, but I did not think much of it, she was in shock and her emotions fraught. But when I turned, the mocking smile on her lips filled me with dread. She grasps her hand round my throat and pushes me to beneath the window sill.  
"Foolish girl? Ha, no more than this foolish man. Once so great a warrior, but lets all love cloud his vision, even into thinking he cares only for this girl because he knows her brothers." Melusida speaks, but her voice is not her own, it mimics hers, yet is mocking and cold.  
"Melusida." I gasp.  
"I play her well, do I not? I have her voice and her weeping. 'I am frightened Lord Boromir, oh take care of me Lord Boromir, noble warrior'!" her voice whines cruelly, I struggle fiercely against her tight grasp, stars sparking into my vision, the edges clouding.  
"But you have let her down, Captain. You have deceived her, were you to love her better…"  
"I do love her better." I choke out, though Melusida merely laughs.

"As you love any of your whores, Boromir. My daughter deserves better, my daughter deserves the best and now I may give her any man and you may die, knowing you were a fool and she will not bed you."  
Again I battle against His words and the hand choking me, but where her strength came from I do not know and it is killing me, her cold voice laughed shrilly,  
"Should you wish to live, you need only reach for the sword at your belt and kill her where she stands."  
"If there is any good in her, I will not." I pushed upwards, though she did not relinquish her hold, but I could grapple with her arms.  
"I know you, Melusida. As you know me and I am certain you bring out something better in me, something more…You make me twice the man than I used to be…" I manage to pin one arm behind her back, though I still struggle with her grip on my throat, "You are better than this, you know your own mind. Do not let Him claim it as His…"

Suddenly her hand loosened its tight hold and she looks up to the windows, a horrified expression on her face. She draws back her hand and clutches her head, sobbing, letting out a piercing wail. As air fills my chest I can hear a strange noise, the babbling of water, the low rumbling of storm clouds and something more, a woman's voice faint and keening in the air, the mournful song making my neck prickle.  
"No, no, no, no! No, not him! No, Melusine, no…" She rises to the window and looks out towards the field, her scream ripping the air.

"Steward-son." A cool voice like melted snow and calm lakes speaks out and I see Her, the Lady of the Lake, the River goddess Melusine. My mouth drops open on seeing her beauty and how Melusida looks like her so. Melusine is there before me, the fabric of her silver, ethereal dress is like water, flowing around her feet, gliding pale in the air. Her dark hair drifts in the wind, though there is no fresh, sweet air that blows here. Her arms and face are pale, the beauty of her almond shaped eyes and the points of her ears make her seem more unreal, more fair. She smiles faintly in knowing I recognise Her.

"So thus my curse is released. You must catch her; I will cause her to sleep. Do what you must do and I will do what I can to protect you. May the Rivers guide you." Her voice makes me wish to weep, but I do as she bids and open my arms so as to catch Melusida when she suddenly pitches back into my arms, the weight nearly making me stagger, but I lift her to bed and place her down once more. When I look back to thank the goddess She is no longer there, but I mutter a quiet, grateful prayer. Whether anyone believes me or no, I know she stood there, guarding her daughter.

"Boromir…" Pippen is at the door, breathing heavily, "I am glad I found you. Denethor has…well he nearly burnt Faramir alive…the Council agrees, he has been driven mad and you are appointed in his stead. Gandalf wishes to see you."  
It is much to take in, but after wrapping the bedclothes around Melusida I follow Pippen down the hall.  
"Father tried to burn Faramir? Why? I heard he was injured and unwell, but not so near to death as that."  
"He was not, his fever was strong and though they fought to keep him in the Houses, your father would not agree to it. He sent for him to be brought up to the Citadel, I thought not much of it, I though he meant to have Faramir cared for in his bedroom. But I managed to tell Gandalf in time, he stopped it."

My head felt too faint with all this new knowledge of my father's madness, it pained me to think of him so.  
"How does Melusida fair?" Pippen glanced up at the bruising and bandage on my neck.  
"Better, I am assured she is safe."  
"By whom? Sewya?"  
"No…By her Goddess. Were I any other man, I would not have believed it, but I saw Her. She is keeping her safe, though I know not what She means by the curse being broken…Much has happened here, we all have a good deal to speak about." I say to Pippen, who nods and does not speak a word, we quicken our pace.

* * *

Based on Tony Robinson's Gods and Monsters series, my lord it is hard to find an exorcism scene without all the bull*ahem* that Hollywood likes adding! Not that it's exactly _scientific_ in the first place, but it was so hard finding anything that resembled a medieval, Catholic exorcism. Obviously it couldn't be exactly the same, Tolkien may have been Christian, but Middle Earth is a Polytheistic world, but there's still the idea about Holy water, religious symbols and prayers to drive out demons. But Sauron is Sauron, it'll take a bit more than herbs and burnt chicken feathers to get rid of him!


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty Five

My dreams taunted and scared me now, I was not aware if I was either awake or asleep. Sometimes I believed I had wakened, only to see strange shadows and grotesque faces dripping like wax at the base of my bed. The screams of my nightmares echoed around the room, I heard hooves pounding against the land and those screams screeching furiously. I saw glowing red eyes in the dark, the shadows merging into billowing capes. The pale ghostliness of the mountains still filtering into my room, but my attention was wholly caught by the sound of the horses and ungodly cries. It seemed they would not stop for any reason, the pounding of my heart matched their pace. I could feel my own breath coming in short gasps, as panic constricted my lungs, I knew they hunted me. Sauron was finally going to claim me as His, but I would be damned if I did not fight for my own life first.

Once when I awoke my room was deathly dark, large looming shadows standing around my bed. A voice so loud and ringing my ears, I ended up clutching my hands to my ears and screaming; though the voice only grew louder and louder, 'Which one has it? Which one?' Sometimes I would wake from the phantoms, Laredith's face, then Gandalf's, then Boromir's appearing above my head, before being lost to the darkness. My skin burned with unbearable heat, then cooled rapidly, so I sweated and shivered as though I had a fever. I dream of walking around Minas Tirith once more, going up each level, until reaching the top and seeing the tree. It burns, fire cracking and licking along the branches.

My body burns with heat, though the air is growing colder. As I look up the canopy of my bed and the roof above they seem to crack open; the inky jet of the sky revealed. But it is not solely dark, the sky is strewn with so many stars and vaguely wish I could be so far away, so distant from the goings-on of this earth. Perhaps if I had remained unborn things would have been different, perhaps the darkness would not be covering this world…would my mother have still been alive, my father? Have all those who died had some blame that could be placed on me, my family and my ancestors? I felt my eyes drifting closed as my mind whirled with thoughts and unnamed fears. Though I was grateful the room seemed blissfully quiet. Little soothed me until I heard her voice, the Lady Galadriel whispered in my mind and I was beyond all reason to know where her voice came from or why it came to me now.

"Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt. You fear the path before you and not the broken shoes upon your feet; do not forget Melusida that it is many paths that make up a road. Fate is not one sole line; it is the chance for many journeys."  
"Don't leave me." I begged.  
"My daughter is with you and she will always remain so." I suddenly see the Lady Galadriel at the foot of my bed, she holds my mirror in her hands.  
"No, it is not safe." I said.  
"I have told you, your powers can be used for good or ill, as can your mirror." She runs her hand along the jagged line, two cracks marring the silver surface, "If it breaks again it will shatter. Should you wish it, you can govern your mirror to show you good, to heed your word. But if not…It shall remain without a master, loyal to none."

I reach out towards the mirror, but rather than the surface rippling and my watching, I feel as though I am pulled through. The power both within my mind and without. It is like walking through a waterfall, though my clothes remain dry and as I blink my eyes open I nearly choke on the smell that fills my lungs, something dead and decaying. The walls too near, the mists coiling and whispering over my fingers. The dead King walks back to his lair, he stops suddenly and turns to look at me.  
"So here is the witch who cursed our name." he says. His voice echoes around the walls, as though the words are spoken by thousands and not just him alone. I look about me, trying to find the way out, some form of natural light, some forgiving path that will lead me out of here.  
"They know my answers, it is nay. Why should we hold a debt to a man who used an evil power, a witch's spell? There is no honour in that." he says.

"Why? You know where your duty lies, why do you seek to remain in darkness, in rotting agony?" it is a woman's voice, strong and clear, her voice commanding respect. I twist about looking for Her, looking for Melusine. When I turn back the King looks on me with interest, a cold smile cracking his lips into skeleton teeth. "Magick knows neither the concept of good or evil, it will just follow the master's bidding. Isildur chose this fate for you because you lacked any concept of honour and fealty."  
The King lets out a small growl, his blank eyes fixed on mine, "Why Melusine do you send this child to speak your words? You use her tongue as your own. Show yourself to me."  
I hear Her laugh, mocking, rich, wonderful.  
"For she is my child, my daughter, the one who carries my gift and you will obey her as you would obey me and Isildur. Obey the heirs of our bloodline; we have come before you now to demand your loyalty."

"I am not one to be commanded to obey a witch." He flies towards me, raising his sword as he does and as I reach towards my belt I realise I am unarmed, I flinch as the blow comes down towards me. But then she is there before me, the fabric of her silver, ethereal dress is like water, flowing around her feet, gliding pale in the air. Her dark hair drifts in the wind, though there is no fresh, sweet air that blows here. Her arms and face are pale, the beauty of her almond shaped eyes and the points of her ears make her seem more unreal, more fair. She gestures with her arm and the King falls to his knees, as though when her arm reached out she hurt him.  
"Do as we wilt, for we have commanded your allegiance and you know our words to be true."  
He remains at her feet, breathing heavily, she deftly touches his shoulder and he looks up.  
"I can see why the King fell in love with you." he snarls.

She removes her hand and steps back apace. "Such things are worthless to speak of now. Go to the future King, go to Isildur's heir. Melusida will see to it that your oaths are fulfilled."  
It was as though a cold rush of air suddenly ran through my body, as though my blood froze and the dank smell made me put my hand over my mouth, yet still I smelt it. She came to my side and the air felt clearer, it was as though I were standing by the river of my home again. There was something so sad and lost within her eyes.  
"I never intended it to happen, I never sought his attentions."  
"It seems our curse." I said.  
"It is our fate and not something to scorn or despise, but we must ensure it is our own."  
I wanted her to hold me, to have her arms around my shoulders and to kiss my forehead like my mother. But when I reached out to touch her, her arms were not fleshly or real. She smiled though.

"Do what you must do and I will do what I can to protect you. May the Rivers guide you." She said, her hand outstretched towards me as though she offered me something and I could feel something fill my clenched fist.

* * *

First things first, many thanks to Slienmachine for the gorgeous picture of Melusida and thank you for letting me use it as the cover picture.  
Thank you to M&N and Certh for reading and reviewing (especially with my wobbly tenses) :) and to everyone else for reading.  
This update is in celebration of the said lovely picture and also because I'm almost finished with TGotR, so potentially my posting may speed up a tad just because I want it done and out the way, so I can finish my other stories and get cracking with some new ones. Also if anyone id interested I can either tell you of my other stories or you can see them on my page thing. Mostly Eowyn/Faramir, Boromir/OC and also a new Harry Potter Founder one. Enjoy!


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty Six

"Gandalf!" I call to the wizard down the corridor, he turns, it is still strange to see him as a commander. While Pippen's clothes are smeared with ash, oil, the dirt and fighting of the streets and I fare no better with orc blood and that of my own, sweat and dirt, Gandalf's robes have remained white.  
"Pippen has told me all that has happened and I saw the Rohirrim crest the hill, defending us. But tell me, how is my brother? I will speak of Melusida shortly, but I must first hear about Faramir."  
Gandalf frowns almost severely at me, "The scratch on your cheek and the blood at your neck are from no wounds of battle."  
"A battle of wills and souls, not swords. Gandalf tell me, how does Faramir?"  
The man sighed, "He is strong certainly, those arrows should have killed him with their poison, yet he fights on. Your father did him no service in taking him from the Houses of Healing and near killing him; I have done all I could in aiding him, but the shadow still lingers upon him."

My stomach drops and I feel damp sweat break out on my forehead, if Melusida saved me from being shot by arrows does that mean a life must be repaid for it? Do I get mine and forfeit my brother's?  
"Will he live?" I ask. Gandalf looks down to his feet and frowns even further, before looking up and speaking.  
"We must take some comfort that he has lived thus far; any ordinary man would have lost his life by now. There is yet some hope in that, but I cannot say with all due confidence that he will live."  
I turn away from them both then; I have always had my brother, in sorrow and joy we have been at one another's side. As I turn back I see Pippen glance at Gandalf, a furtive, worried expression on his face. I know that look, Pippen has been told to hold his tongue, but his unfailing honesty means he is not good enough at it.

"What is it? What else are you hiding?" I instantly ask Gandalf.  
"You said you would speak of Melusida. I know you were there with her throughout, what little news I received from Pippen only told me of the beginnings, not the end."  
"You will tell me all." I thunder, fear tightly coiling around my throat and my hand linger at the bruises Melusida made.  
"Boromir…"  
"Tell me!" I feel like a child, throwing a tantrum when afraid, but there is something else hidden in their expressions and it frightens me.  
"After the incident with your brother and taking him back to the Houses, then coming here to see to Melusida, your father is missing. I knocked him out, while Pippen saved Faramir from the pyre, but when the guards returned for him he was nowhere to be found." Gandalf says, his voice is quite calm, but knowing my father is somewhere in this great city, not recognising friend from foe, makes my throat constrict.  
"We must find him." I say.  
"Yes, but first, tell me quickly what has occurred."

I speak of everything I know, I feel ashamed when I speak of Sewya and what Melusida went through, Gandalf shakes his head and frowns vehemently.  
"Such things are nonsense, it is rare to have a spirit pervade another soul and potions, charms and prayers will not work against it, even if the spirit is weak. You saw this with Théoden."  
"You were nowhere to be found, I did not know what else to do." I mutter.  
Gandalf's hand clasps my shoulder, "And you did what anyone else would have done in such a scenario, I am sorry Pippen and I were not there. But I am sure you did not want Faramir to die any more than Melusida."  
"Of course not, I am in your debt."  
Gandalf waves his hand and encourages me to speak further. I tell him of how Sauron manipulated her, used her voice to make me think it was her and that He was gone. How Melusida attempted to strangle me, but I would not raise my sword to her, in hope some goodness remained. Then, how she had turned to the window and screamed, an agonising, heart-breaking scream, before…

I stop and Gandalf notes the pause, he studies me intently.  
"Then what happened?"  
"Boromir said he saw Melusine, the goddess of Melusida's family." Pippen says quickly, before I can answer.  
Gandalf turns his gaze back towards me, "You saw her?"  
"Yes." I cannot think of what else to say.  
"And what did she say?" Gandalf asks, that surprise me, I thought he would tell me that was nonsense too and my mind was playing tricks on me.  
"She said, her curse was released and she would protect me and Melusida, Melusine caused her to fall asleep. I believe she will remain so, till the battle is over."  
"Hmm, interesting. Do you know what she meant by 'Her curse was released'?"  
I shake my head, Gandalf nods slowly.  
"What do you think She meant, Gandalf?" Pippen asks.  
"Who can say…" Gandalf's eyebrows draw together and he frowns even further, then he suddenly snaps into action, "Boromir, go back to your men. They need a sign of hope and you shall be it, ride out to join the Rohirrim. Pippen, guard Melusida…"

Both Pippen and I look bemused as Gandalf gets up, his cloak swirling around him and marches back down the corridor.  
"And where are you going?" Pippen calls.  
"To the library, Master Took."  
I wonder if I should point out that now is not the best time for reading, but Gandalf has soon turned the corner and vanished from sight. I look down at Pippen, who looks up and shrugs.  
"We have our orders." he says.  
We all make off in different directions, though as I walk I keep my eyes peeled for my father or any sign of him. But as I join my men, I know it will be impossible to search for him amongst all this confusion and bloodshed.

* * *

As promised, I'm speeding up a little bit. Hope that's ok for everyone and please do keep reading and reviewing. But I'm writing and have written plenty of other stories, so fear not, lots more to come! Xxx


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty Seven  
Arwen's Song

King Aragorn sails the broken sea,  
His ship the summer's pride,  
To scale the walls of Minas Tirith  
With tested men and tried.  
I know but one who sails within,  
The ranks of Aragorn's men,  
To challenge death at Minas Tirith,  
The Prydwen sails again.  
The Prydwen sails again.

At Aragorn's call, the bravest,  
Of his fellows did take to sea.  
Of a thousand, three did return,  
Who once faced evil here.  
So bear my token proudly, love,  
And fight until the end.  
I know your banner's carried as,  
The Prydwen sails again.  
The Prydwen sails again.

The Tree and the peace it brings,  
Are nowhere in this land.  
May Aragorn find them finally,  
With you among his band.  
Keep your shield before you,  
And your head held high, my friend.  
I'll bring my sword to join you when,  
The Prydwen sails again.  
The Prydwen sails again.

* * *

Next chapter is very long (posting up this evening), so there needed to be a lull in the action and I love this song (though I changed a few lyrics).


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty Eight

I awoke, though I wished to remain sleeping forever. I lay in the bed for what felt like hours, my eyes drifted over every small scratch in the white ceiling, every pattern on the bed, how the sheets felt soft and warm under my skin, but I could take no comfort from it. The nightgown was rough against my skin and my hands were itchy. I brought them up to my face; they were covered in dried blood, some of the knuckles cracked and raw. I got up from the bed then and poured some water from a ewer into my basin. I didn't know whether the blood was solely mine or someone else's. The water dyed red when I cleaned my hands and the brown blood under my finger nails, I could feel my body trembling. I sank down to the floor and wept, I wanted to die, there and then, what joy in life could I ever find? This world was too dark and horrible to warrant life.

I stayed weeping, arms wrapped around my knees, head buried in them. Till I remembered what Galadriel said, that if my mirror received one more scratch it would break. Shards of glass. I didn't have the knife she gave me, nor the sword from Lord Elrond, but I had my mirror. If I broke it, I could cut my wrists. It seemed everyone had decided or decreed my life, except me, I wanted a choice and choosing my way of dying was the best one I could have. I wiped my eyes and got up, pushed open the chest and began to search amongst my clothes and the spare blankets packed within it. I became more and more frantic, throwing things out of the chest, eventually searching in the other cupboards and even under the bed. I couldn't find it. I stood in the middle of the room, chest heaving. Who had taken it? Why had they taken it?

"Looking for something?"  
I turned around, Lord Denethor stepped out from behind a tapestry, he smiled at me. The cold, manic gleam in his eyes was terrifying and I backed towards the bed; he stepped closer, drawing out my mirror from his long cloak. I could do nothing but stare at him. He pushed the mirror towards me, but I kept my hands clutched to my sides.  
"Use it; tell me what the enemy sees."  
I shook my head.  
"I said, use it!"  
My throat was dry and sore, I wondered if I had been screaming, but finally I managed a feeble yet determined, "No."  
His eyes widened with anger, "You will use it or I will have you put to death. I will have you…" he stopped, perturbed by the smile that came to my lips.  
"Kill me then, I don't care. I know I will never be happy again, so you may do what you like."  
His expression changed to one of confusion, before resuming his determined glare. He shoved the mirror into my lap, my ghostly white image rippling as I watched, but I refused to succumb to it. Refuse to let it take me. The images tried to come to the surface, fought the currant that was pulling it under, but finally they sunk to the bottom and I pulled my head up and stood to face him.  
"I will not have you, nor anyone tell me what I must do or must not do. It is my choice. My decision."

He looked scared for one moment and I saw him as that frightened old man, willing to do anything in protecting his city, mourning his wife, father to his sons or at least one of them. I pushed him aside and made my way to the window, pushing back the curtain and barely taking in the ravaged city, the lingering smell of blood, steel and burning. I held my mirror tightly in the crook of my arm, Lord Denethor reached out towards me, but I stepped onto the ledge of the window.  
"No! You will not choose how I die, Lord Denethor. Only Death and I can decide such a matter, and Death already decided once not to take me, but now I believe he will."

I looked out over the city, towards the plains, the dark line of forest in Ithilien, the grey peaks of mountains in the distance. The cold wind blew strongly in the air, making a low moaning sound and the banners and flags shook in the wind. A cool sound of ringing, like the noise of bells. If this was death then I would fly, fly like Melusine. I would forget the world of Men and spiral up into the air. I leaned forward, ready to loosen my hold on the window edge and fall down into the darkness, into the abyss. But just as I let go, a hand grabbed round my waist and pulled me back into the room. I struggled in the tight grip, his other hand nearly strangling me because he held the back of my dress near my neck. Finally I turned round and saw my brother.  
"Dòmhnall." I whispered, holding onto him. He wore the armour of the Rohirrim and looked grief stricken. His eyes had shadows beneath them and I could scarcely believe my younger brother would already look so grim and old. But he held onto me and I saw his eyes fill with tears.  
"My sister." he replied, the tears spilling down his cheeks.  
"I don't want to stay in this room anymore." I whispered, not looking at the bed. I could see the white cloak of Gandalf out of the corner of my eye, but I did not know why he was leaning over the bed or where the Lord Denethor was. The quietness frightened me.

Dòmhnall picked me up easily, as though my weight was nothing to him. Perhaps he had grown further or I had lost weight. I shouldn't have, I thought. It could not be healthy to. Dòmhnall quickly marched out of the room into the corridor.  
"Dòmhnall, where are you going?" Pippen was at his side suddenly and I turned my head to vaguely smile at the hobbit, though he looked too worried to see my happiness on seeing him again.  
"To take my sister away from that room and to look after her."  
"But Boromir said…"  
Dòmhnall turned on the hobbit with frightening speed and glared down at him; Pippen gulped and quickly closed his mouth. I was half amazed anyone had managed to quieten Pippen, but half frightened of my brother's angry stare.  
"Dòmhnall," I whispered, my throat too dry almost to speak. I wanted to beg him not to be unkind to Pippen, that Pippen had no fault in anything. We had been through much, but he had no right to take his anger out on the hobbit.  
"Please, Melusida," my brother turned to look at me, "My anger frightens myself, I can scarcely believe what they have done to you. What nearly happened…" he murmured, head bowed down almost in shame, but eyes blazing with a fierce anger. He looked very much like our father then. Dòmhnall took a deep, calming breath and then continued down the corridor.

"Where are we going?" I asked.  
"To the Houses of Healing."  
"No, Dòmhnall…"  
"Do not argue with me."  
I was surprised by my little brother's aggression; he normally did not mind me arguing with him. It was Hamnet who claimed it was unladylike, but even he knew it was part of my character.  
"Dòmhnall, I am not sick."  
"You were trying to jump out of a window." he said through gritted teeth."  
"There are other people who need it more than I." I said.  
"Melusida." He turned his glare to me, but I did not shy away from it like Pippen, "You are not well. You are in shock…"  
"Please Dòmhnall; I only did that because Denethor would have killed me anyway. As long as you are here, I am safe. Stay by my side, but don't take me to the Houses of Healing."  
Dòmhnall frowned and sighed again, "I am needed in the Great Hall, they wish to discuss our next plans."  
"Then take me there."  
"You are not strong enough to be part of those talks."  
"I will not overtax myself, I promise Dòmhnall."

He hugged me close and more tears fell down his cheeks, "I'm sorry, but it is because you are alive. You are alive and are my sister, I feared I was…"  
"Dòmhnall?"  
We all looked up and saw Boromir approaching us; he had discarded his armour and now wore a dark burgundy tunic, the blood and grime of battle cleared from his face and clothes. I could feel Dòmhnall's posture straighten and his grip on me tighten. I glanced up to Dòmhnall's face, but he let no expression betray his emotions. One thing was clear though, he did not welcome Boromir as a friend. Boromir slowed his pace on seeing my brother's stance and he finally stood beside him. Dòmhnall said nothing, but shifted my weight again and kept his gaze level with Boromir's. I saw Boromir frown and then glance down at me, his expression softened somewhat and he raised his hand slightly as though he would cup my cheek. Dòmhnall swiftly pulled me away from the gesture and continued down the corridor.

"Dòmhnall!" I said, surprise by his coldness. I peeped over his shoulder, Boromir was following us, even though my brother's pace quickened as though he could outrun Boromir in the place he had grown up in. Pippen was still on our heels. The passing walls and torches made me feel slightly sick.  
"Dòmhnall, wait…" Boromir called to us. I expect Dòmhnall to at least turn and stop, even if he said nothing, but he continued down the hallway until we finally reached the great hall. I barely had time to notice the surprised faces of Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas, another man with dark blonde hair, a small beard, a serious and intent expression and the armour of the Rohirrim; before Dòmhnall had seated me in a chair and pulled his cloak around my legs. Aragorn and Gimli looked a little worn and tired and they gave me small smiles. Legolas still looked wide awake and alert, not one hair out of place.

"This is Éomer, Third Marshal of the Riddermark." Dòmhnall nodded to the unknown Rohirrim, who gave a short bow, "This is my sister, Melusida." Dòmhnall got up and went to the table were Gimli was eating; he poured a cup of ale and put some bread, beef and apple on a plate. Then handed me the dish. It dawned on me how hungry I was and after I drank some of the ale, I slowly began to eat the bread, trying not to cram the whole roll down my throat.  
"Gandalf has told us everything." Aragorn said as I continued eating. Boromir seem to have given up talking to my brother and he sat down on one of the benches lining the hall. Now and then he glanced over at me, but Dòmhnall had apparently appointed himself my bodyguard and although I wished to talk to Boromir and ask why my brother was so angry, I decided against it.  
"There would be some who'd say this was dark magic. The Enemy's trick." Éomer said, his eyes boring into my own.  
Despite his uniform Dòmhnall's hand drifted towards his sword, I gently placed my hand over his.  
"Those who say such things often don't understand them." Legolas said, "I sense no evil here."

"Still seems half fantastical." Gimli muttered. "But then I should be used to people reappearing from the dead, perhaps it is not so strange."  
"Reappearing from the dead?" I asked.  
Legolas nodded, "First Gandalf, then Aragorn."  
"Though mine was not miraculous." Aragorn said.  
"It was miraculous you survived such a fall." Boromir said.  
Aragorn nodded and brought his pipe out from his pocket, "Yet questions remained unanswered, Gandalf did not explain how you were reborn."  
"Could it not be in the same way as him? That the fates held a purpose for Melusida?" Legolas asked, he looked at me, as though expecting an answer.  
"I don't know. I don't know how I was reborn, even when I met Gandalf he could not explain it. I thought I was mortal. Perhaps Melusine…perhaps She gave me her grace." I murmured.

Aragorn and Legolas both frowned, as though they would contradict me. Gimli harrumphed in his chair and maintained his focus on the salted ham before him, Pippen following his suit. Boromir strode over to the table and filled a glass with wine.  
"Perhaps you are right, Melusida." he said.  
I glanced up at him, surprised and flattered by his support, "You do not refute me?"  
"Nay. I would not." He turned to face me and my brother, "I saw Her, how could I deny Her existence?"  
"You saw Melusine?" I said excitedly, "Did She say anything? What did She do?"  
"She said She would protect both you and I."  
I smiled at that, there was no reason why Boromir would claim such a thing, among his friends who would be more likely to tell him he was wrong, than if he spoke truthfully. Dòmhnall suddenly slammed his own flagon on the table and drew his sword, threatening Boromir. It seemed to take only seconds for Aragorn to draw his and for Pippen and Legolas to step in front of Boromir, bow raised and an arrow notched in the string. Pippen only had the short sword in his belt, but he raised the little dagger as though he would cut my brother were he stood. My mouth felt dry once more and the only thing I could do was to reach up for my brother's sleeve. I licked my lips nervously.

"Dòmhnall, what do you mean by this? What are you doing?" I whispered, throat tight over my words.  
Dòmhnall's eyes flicked nervously between me and the rest of the fellowship standing guard.  
"Lower your sword." Aragorn said and Dòmhnall bit his lip, gradually lowering the weapon. Aragorn was the first to stow away his sword, frowning at Dòmhnall, until he did the same. Legolas lowered his bow and relaxed the string, putting the arrow back in his quiver, but keeping guard till Boromir clasped his shoulder.  
"Would you care to explain why you attempted to attack the Steward of Gondor?" Aragorn said.  
Dòmhnall glared at Boromir, "I will not have the name of our goddess on his lips or Her promise of protection over him…"  
"Dòmhnall…" I began, wanting him to see reason and not understanding his sudden turning on Boromir."  
"No! Do you not know what they did, Melusida?" Dòmhnall turned back to me and cupped my cheek in his hand.  
"I…"  
"First they drugged you, they drugged your wine so you would not attack them and when that did not work, they bound you to a chair and performed some ridiculous, foul ceremony on you to release His spirit. They would not trust your own spirit or your own strength."

He angrily turned to face Pippen and Boromir, both of whom looked shame faced. I could scarcely take in all my brother said. I thought I had been trusted, at least by Boromir. I had trusted him, even when his spirit had been darkest. I had not doubted him then and it hurt me to hear he had not put his faith and love in me.  
"It is of my opinion, that had my sister not been put through such a thing, been forced to swallow piss and Eru knows what else, that you would not have attacked them with such force, that Sauron would not have dominated your soul so easily."  
"Dòmhnall, you were not here." Aragorn attempted to calm him.  
"She is my sister! I know my sister." Dòmhnall angrily threw off Aragorn's hand, he turned back to Boromir, "She nearly died and you have the nerve to say our goddess protects you."

Boromir did not speak for some time, waiting for my brother to finish his angry outburst before speaking.  
"I am sorry. Sorry I chose that path. That I did not trust your sister enough or show her enough respect to…"  
"Don't apologise to me, you bastard." Dòmhnall's language made my own mouth drop open. Boromir flinched, but he did not raise his hand or voice against Dòmhnall, as I thought he would with such an insult to his blood. The Hall was deathly quiet; no one seemed keen to move in case of drawing attention to themselves. Even Pippen's mouth hung open, his hand still holding onto his flagon of ale. Boromir nodded, then walked towards my seat and knelt before me. I kept my eyes lowered and did not look at him.

"Melusida, please forgive me. I am heartily sorry for all that I did…It was never meant to be like this." He put his hand out towards mine and when I did not take it, he gently covered my hand with his own, though I saw Dòmhnall's eyes burn when Boromir did such a thing. I shifted uncomfortably away from his hand.  
"Melusida…?" he whispered with longing.  
I could not hold back my tears then.  
"I trusted you…even when no one else did."  
"We did not know what else to do, we were frightened of what you could become."  
"I was frightened by you, in the forests of Amon Hen, but I did not betray you by letting my fears overcome my respect and affection for you." I said, the air burning my throat and tears running miserably down my face.  
"I…"  
"I am glad my brother did not defend your actions or excuse you, because you are now the Steward! I trusted you!"  
"I did everything I could…"  
"Except trust my own abilities and strength." I cried.

I wiped away my tears and pushed Boromir's hand away from my lap, his face looked even more hurt than when Dòmhnall had called him a bastard. I shakily got to my feet, Aragorn, Boromir and Dòmhnall all coming to aid me, though Dòmhnall glared at both Aragorn and Boromir and they let him take hold of my arm. I took several calming breaths and looked up at my brother. I needed Hamnet here; I needed Hamnet's resolve and sense, his undying logic and loyalty. I needed my older brother's protection and love for me. He would not attack Boromir, but he would defend me at all costs and I missed him. Why wasn't he here?  
"Where's Hamnet?" I said.  
Dòmhnall's hold on my arm tightened and he glanced down to the floor. I gave him a shake.  
"Dòmhnall, where's Hamnet?"  
Dòmhnall's eyes looked bleak and hollow when he looked back up at me and the knuckles of his hand were white, "Did not you hear Melusine sing?"

* * *

Oh yeah, Domhnall and Melusida are seriously annoyed (and rightly so!). As promised, chapter twenty-eight. So insanely close to finish, so thanks so much for you guys reading and those reviewing. Got some new work coming up soon, including and Eowyn and Faramir fic and a Robin Hood (BBC 2006) one. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. :) xxx


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty Nine

I could feel myself screaming, running through the corridor, my throat tightening around my scream so all I could do was choke on my sobs. I pushed the door open, seeing the long cliff pathway leading up to the Citadel, protruding over the city. I ran to the edge and sunk down by the wall, the cold wind blowing over the mountains making me shiver and gooseflesh appear on my arms. I breathed in deeply; taking it lungful's of the cool air, trying to stop the deep burning within my lungs. It felt as though I had cut part of myself off without realising it, that I had lost some deep, meaningful part and I was to never have it back. I wanted to scream and yet all the breath in my body hurt.

My brother was dead. I would never see him again. He would never laugh or smile, never practice sword play with my brother, never roll his eyes at me when I joined in. It would not be three of us trying to reclaim our land and titles, meaningless things in the first place. He would never join the ranks of Gondor's army, never become a military hero, never marry, never have children. His life was cut short and he would never know I had lived, that I had remembered him, that I had waited to see him. Now it would never happen till I left for the Halls of my father's.

Dòmhnall sat beside me, not speaking a word, just wrapping his arms around me. He had brought his cloak with him and placed it around us as though we were children, holding onto one another out of fear.  
"Where did he die?" I tried to calm my voice, but it shook when I spoke.  
"On the battlefield, I don't know where or how…I wasn't there. I just heard Her singing and I knew what had happened and it was too late for me to do anything."  
I sniffed and tried to wipe away my tears, "Have you found his body?"  
He help me get up and then wrapped the cloak around me, "I'll take you to the Houses of Healing first and then search."  
"I want to look."  
"No sister, I have not done you many favours, but I will give you the one of not looking at a battlefield." His expression remained firm and unwavering, "No, don't ask that of me, Melusida. It's not something I can do in all good conscience."  
I finally nodded, even though I did not wish to, "Yes, Dòmhnall."  
He kissed my forehead, "I will tell you as soon as I have found him and brought him here."

We did not ask for permission to leave or wait to see what the others had to say about it, Dòmhnall just put his arm around me and led me down the steps. I glanced up at the Citadel, seeing Boromir standing on the steps looking towards us, Aragorn at his side speaking hurriedly to him and Gandalf framed in the doorway, he frowned and looked towards my brother and I.  
"Come Melusida, I have no desire to speak to anyone here."  
I followed Dòmhnall down the stairs, my heart still aching when I saw Boromir and his look of agony. It hurt to know I still did not wish to cause him pain, but he could so easily forget mine.  
"I cannot forgive him, Melusida." Dòmhnall muttered, on seeing where my gaze lingered  
"It is easier to forgive those who were wrong, than those who were right." I whisper.  
"You are not seriously suggesting he was right with what he did?" Dòmhnall said.  
"No, but right and wrong are concepts that are not so easily defined any more, little brother. I cannot truly say Melusine was good, nor can I say that about myself."

* * *

I felt embarrassed by being taken to the Houses of Healing, apart from feeling tired and aching there was nothing really wrong with me and I protested fiercely to Dòmhnall about that, but he insisted a healer see to me. As we came to the houses there were already men standing about or lying down in the courtyard, the ones standing looked so grim and lost I could not believe they would ever find hope or love again. They looked at us with cold, hungry eyes as though we had something they did not. Those lying on the ground either tossed and turned, moaning in agony or lay so very still and quiet that I feared it was already too late for them. Whether they were of Rohan or from Gondor, their armour and clothes were streaked with blood, ash and dirt; most of them, even those who were standing looked as if they were near death and not willing to fight it anymore.

A painful choking noise by my feet caught my attention and I saw a young man convulse in his makeshift bed, his hand reaching out and grabbing hold of my skirt.  
"Please…please…send for my mother…please."  
I felt tears filling my eyes and as I looked around no one seemed willing to help this man.  
"Melusida!" Dòmhnall called over to me. I glanced up and then looked back down at the soldier. If this had been my brother he would want some show of heart, I could never be a cold lady, lifting up my skirts and turning my noise up. I knelt beside him and took his hand, his eyes barely even seeing me. Tears fell down his face.  
"Mother…mother…"  
I kept my own tears at bay, as I murmured a pray to him, "Divine Mother, whose Essence lies in all, Goddess is Thy name. Thy blessings come, my will be done, in accordance with Your Divine Plan. Give me this day, the wisdom to love and not hate, for the good of all, with harm to none. And bless me with compassion for those I do not understand, as well as those who do not understand me. Illuminate Thy path of Truth before me, and awaken me from my own illusions. For Thou art the Universe, Love and Spirit within. So be it, Blessed Be."

A firm hand seized my arm and lifted me to my feet, as the man's breathing seemed to deepen and the fears of his brow were lifted. I turn to see Cobryn, his expression was like so many of the others, grim and forbearing, but he pulled me away towards Dòmhnall.  
"Forgive me, for what I said. You are still that girl I once knew and loved." I saw tears gather in his own eyes and despite the hardness of his armour and the coldness of his expression I wrapped my arms around his neck. Cobryn seemed taken aback at that moment, but he then relaxed and hugged me back. He gave me a small kiss to my cheek. Dòmhnall gently clasped us both on the shoulder.

"Come Melusida. Cobryn, when you are truly well, we shall leave this place, go back to Rivendell."  
Cobryn nodded, "I will be glad of that, I have served Gondor well enough and I miss my home."  
"Did you…did you see where my brother fell?"  
Cobryn's face grew confused and then grief-stricken, "I…no…But if you did not see him fall, how do you know he is…?"  
"Excuse me." I said and made my way to an archway, I kept my eyes fixed on the mountains, rather than the battlefield spread out before us. I did not want to believe he was dead, I wondered if there would ever be a time when I accepted it. Rivendell would not really be our home without Hamnet there. Suddenly a bright flash of light filled my mind and gripped onto the column, gasping at the air. I had not had a vision like this for many months. I stepped away from the arch, not desiring to pitch forward over the edge.  
I heard someone calling my name, before the darkness overwhelmed me and I could feel myself falling to the hard ground.

I open my eyes and I am standing directly in front of the picture, the one in Rivendell. The light is cooler, greyer now, I shiver in the wind. It casts aside the curtains of all the pictures, not only is there Melusida in the lake and her flight from the city of Minas Tirith, but also Calaeriel in the forest, my father fighting against Lord Denethor, my family's banishment, my childhood with my brothers and the Elves, the fellowship, my seeings with the Lady Galadriel, my death and then me in Gondor; I hold my mirror in one hand and the other is stretched out as though warding off my enemies. The mirror holds my own reflection, though I do not have it held up to my face.

* * *

A soft rumbling begins, and at first I think it is thunder, but then the walls and floors begin to shake. A scream flies from my mouth and then the pictures begin to crack, fractures in the wall appearing like fork tongues of lightening. All the pictures are destroyed, the breaking of the walls splintering and severing the paintings, until the picture of Melusine is the last one left. The rumbling continues and I fear the picture will break, but it stops and it is the only one left without injury. I slowly touch the painting, the smooth wall cold under my fingertips. Someone steps up behind me and gently embraces me, a kiss landing on my neck, a murmured voice in my ear.  
"Forgive me, I beg of you."

* * *

I wake up in a smaller bed from my old one, though the room is fairly similar, tall archways on the windows, the pale stone, thick hangings and drapes on the walls and bed. There is no desk in this room, only a chest for clothes and two chairs, one of which was occupied by my brother. I turn my head to Dòmhnall and he instantly comes to my side.  
"Where's Boromir?" I ask, it surprises even me that I should ask for him and Dòmhnall visibly stiffens on hearing Boromir's name.  
"He's outside." he says coldly, "He followed us to the houses, on the pretence of seeing his brother…"  
I put my hand on Dòmhnall's chest, "Please don't say something like that, Boromir cares as much for his brother as you care for me and Hamnet."

Dòmhnall cleared his throat and ran his hand through his hair, "As soon as he saw you fall he brought you back up to the Citadel, he said there would not be enough room in the houses of healing."  
"Quite rightly so." I said and my brother glared at me, "What Dòmhnall? I know what he did was wrong, but Gandalf and Pippen were involved too and Boromir knows that what Gandalf says is often of good sense."  
"So you support them now?"  
"No, of course I don't…"  
There was a soft knock on the door, my brother gazed a while at me, before getting up and opening the door. He stood back and then walked to the window, turning his back as Boromir came into the room and knelt by my bed, he took hold of my right hand and gently kissed it. I softly touched his face.  
"I'm still angry." I said.  
He nodded, "As you have any right to be."

I sigh, "And I don't want to forgive you, but I like you too much not to want to."  
He glanced up at me, "Do you think you will some day?"  
I nodded, "Perhaps, if Gandalf explains his reasoning to me and I want to see Pippen again." I got up from the bed and Dòmhnall turned and walked towards me as though he would stop me from getting up.  
"Another thing, unless I crack my head open or I am somewhere inconvenient, I do not want people to keep putting me in bed whenever I have a seeing. It's very annoying and confusing when I wake up."

Dòmhnall frowned, but nodded his consent and I put my shoes back on my feet.  
"Sister, I think it best I do not attend when Gandalf reveals his thinking, I will not control my anger." Dòmhnall muttered. I gave him a hug.  
"Go to the kitchens, have something to eat and then sleep. You look exhausted; you have no need to get angry on my account. We shall save our tears for our brother." I say and Dòmhnall bows his head, I feel his body shake with sobs and I hold him tighter to me. He may be a head taller than me, but he is still my little brother.  
"I will have someone search for his body with you; he was a good man to Gondor and a better brother to you both." Boromir says gravely.  
My brother's head jerks up and I expect him to argue with Boromir, but he bows his head and mumbles a quiet thank you.  
"Why does not Cobryn search with you?" I suggest, "He knew Hamnet."  
"I will find him again in the houses." Dòmhnall says, he goes to the door, but stops beside Boromir and clasps his shoulder, "Please keep my sister safe."  
Boromir bows his head and places a closed fist next to his heart, "Upon my honour, I will."

* * *

Think I'm so close to finishing now, been saying that for ages, but I really am! Though I've been working so much on my other fanfics, I forgot to write any on this for ages. So I've only just finished chapter 29 today, I'm guessing 30-32 will probably be roughly where the story ends. Again big thanks to everyone reviewing, especially Certh, M&N and slienmachine.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty

My brother swiftly walks out of the room; Boromir and I are left alone. He keeps his gaze to the floor and I have a sudden, intense desire to comfort him, though it still conflicts with my anger and disappointment that he did not trust me. I take my cloak off my shoulders and fold it over the chair, before going towards Boromir.  
"Shall we go, my lady?"  
"Yes, as long as you don't call me that." I say. A little smile finds its way to Boromir's lips. I find myself smiling and then my hand grazing the corner of his mouth, his lips are surprisingly soft and I see his Adam's apple bob when he swallows nervously. He holds his body very tensely, as though he fears what will happen if he allows himself to feel any desire for me. I pull my hand away and lower my eyes, I'm still meant to be angry.

"Melusida." he whispers my name again, sheer longing in his voice, though I avoid his eye.  
"We should go."  
He lifts my hand and kisses it again, then pulls me closer to him, tenderly stroke my cheek. I glance up into his eyes, feeling strangely caught and yet wanting to be kept there. I take a small breath. I long for his arms to go about me, for him to comfort me, but everything Dòmhnall said still rings in my mind and my brother's death still hurts too badly for any form of comfort. I step away from his caress, keeping my eyes askance from his wounded expression.  
"We should go." I say again, this time Boromir nods and offers me his arm. I take it, but keep my pace quick as we walk down the corridor and return to the great hall once more. When we enter Gandalf is sitting at one of the tables, surrounded by books, the others are also gathered and turn when they hear us walk through the hall and up the long stone room. Aragorn gets up from his own seat and walks towards me, gently clasping my shoulder when he reaches me.

"Your brother made no mention of your loss, I am sorry for you both."  
I shake my head, "The last thing Hamnet would have wanted, is for Dòmhnall to turn his sword on you and Boromir. We have lost so many of our family; it is not an easy thing for my brother to bear."  
Behind Aragorn I saw Gandalf get up and approach me, I step round Aragorn and look up into the old man's severe expression; however, when he reaches me it gentles and he guides me over to the table. I sit down next to him and I am greeted by the books Laredith showed me, the ones with both beautiful drawings and paintings and other horrifying ones, in some way they remind me of the vision I last had. Gandalf nods as my gaze lingers over them.  
"You have seen these before?" he asks.  
"Yes, Laredith showed me them." I glance up, "What interest do you have with them?"  
"This last one." Here he shows me the picture of her with the unfurled dragon wings, inky black scales stretching across the sky as her body curls behind her and her mouth is opened in a scream of agony. I shudder, wondering if that was how I looked on knowing that Hamnet was dead.

"In this script it reads, '_For as all those had broken their word, and honesty is what keeps men good, Melusine fled from this world, transforming into a beast, showing all men what foul deeds and words conjure up in this world. She ran from the Citadel with tears in her eyes and screaming in her mouth, before flying into the air. Her wings grew like dragons and her song became ever more powerful, for she now wept for the future of her children and her bloodline, knowing all men to be weak and infallible and her own blood part of that curse. But even as she wept, she knew that such a curse could be reprieved, if she should fell but one part of her tree. Melusine swore that such a thing could never be done, until the end of time and thus the end of her children were near, for once it was done the children would never carry her blessing nor her curse. And so, because of this, whenever a child of that household is born or died, Melusine's cry shall rein in the air, but only those of her bloodline may hear it.'"_

The hall had fallen strangely quiet, considering how often people told me there was nothing in the story other than fanciful notions of immortality within my family and other myths combined with it, I was surprised by how many had fallen silent and were now listening to Gandalf speak. I wondered for a moment whether it was because Gandalf's voice commanded those around him to listen, but there was something to be said for the story. My neck prickled, Gandalf turned his clever, piercing eyes onto me and I hastily looked back down to the book.  
"Do you understand what it means?" he asked.  
I frowned; it seemed an odd question to ask. Of course I did, it was part of my family history, as my brother had fallen I had heard her song, heard that sweet, aching song of everything. Knowing the sharpest, bitterness of lost and heartache, knowing the buds and leaves that are reborn every spring mocking the old winter, children laughing and playing on this earth and knowing their time was limited and nothing could be done to protect them.

"Yes," I murmured, "I heard her singing when my brother was slain. My mother spoke of it many times, I heard her sing when my mother died, when my father died…"  
"And your brothers spoke of it when you…" Boromir trailed off, but I knew he referred to my death. I saw Legolas frown momentarily.  
"What is it, Legolas?" Gandalf asked him.  
"Hamnet spoke of hearing the same song not long after Melusida's death, he awoke from a dream saying something about _Her_ singing. When I asked him who he meant he told me Melusine, he told me he had seen her both laughing and crying."  
"Why did he not speak of it further? He made no mention of it to me." Gandalf said.  
"I tried to speak of it to him in the morning, but he dismissed it as a dream and nothing more. When we were in Rohan I suggested he should tell you, but he said he had no wish to."

I turned my face back to the books, quickly wiping away my tears, Hamnet had never truly believed in the myth. Even when She came to him, even when he heard Her song. I stifled my sob, Pippen coming over to my side with a glass of wine, the brimming cup nearly overflowing. I smiled shakily and took the cup from him, taking a quick sip to avoid spilling it on my dress. I saw Gandalf roll his eyes at Pippen, but smile good-naturedly at him.  
"Perhaps if Hamnet had spoken of it to you, he could have been saved." I said.  
"War is a dangerous thing for all men, Melusida, whether they are guarded by a goddess or nay." Boromir said and Aragorn nodded his head in agreement. But when I turned back to Gandalf he was frowning more vehemently than ever and shook his head.

"I do not believe you have understood what this passage is about and, in truth, with the use of the tree metaphor it is a little hard to tell. Many of those have studied this legend, believe the tree is a literal one, that when Melusine flew she went to a forest and remained there hidden. As you have met her mother, you would understand why such a connection was made."  
I looked back over to the passage again,_ '…she knew that such a curse could be reprieved, if she should fell one part of her tree.'  
_"Well? What does it mean then?" I asked.  
Gandalf said nothing and poured himself a cup of ale; he kept his gaze fixed on mine.  
"When you had your vision, what was it about?"  
I am surprised by his question and the abrupt change in topic, but I answer him, "I was in Rivendell in the Hall of Isildur, there were paintings of my life and that of Melusine all about me. I heard a loud rumbling through the earth and all the pictures began to crack into pieces."

Gandalf smiled softly then, "Melusine was showing you something very important…"  
"She always shows me things that are important." I said and Gandalf nodded.  
"Of course, but I believe she has now felled one part of her tree. The curse was one linked to her bloodline; in the story if she had killed her children the world would have been spared her blessing and her curse…"  
"But She didn't." I cried out and Gandalf raised a hand to quieten me.  
"No, she didn't. The story is meant to be a story of a woman's love, despite all the mythical elements, it is purely about the love of a wife for her husband and her protection over her children. It would be a horrific woman indeed who could kill her own children."  
"Gandalf, slow down. What are you trying to say?" Boromir asked, he came to my side and I could feel that small spark that bound us to one another, his firm hand held my shoulder briefly before letting go.

"I am saying, as much as it saddens me, I think Melusine has done what would have relieved the curse. She has purposefully destroyed the oldest part of her bloodline."  
I got up from the stool, my mouth dry, "You are saying she killed my brother." The horrible empty sensation was in my stomach again and my tears threatened to spill. Gandalf stood up next to me, Boromir picked up my cup and pressed it into my hands.  
"Maybe not killed, but she may have lifted her protection for a small moment. She knew that in doing so, it would destroy what power was in her bloodline and thus destroy Sauron's power over you, for His spirit was entwined with her's. Melusine never had his child, but the taint upon her soul was caused by him."  
I drank some of the wine, a feeling of numbness spreading over my body.

"So I have nothing anymore?" I whispered. Everything of my life had been based on that story, my family, my powers, my own life and fate.  
"You have your youngest brother still; you have your own life. What more could a young woman wish for?" Gandalf asked. My tears spilled down my cheeks then and I slammed the cup back down on the table.  
"I am nothing without my gifts, they are the only reason I am here."  
"You consider your mortal talents worthless beside them?" Gandalf asked, his calm, probing look so irritatingly cool I could have screamed.  
"Yes, they are. If I had not had my gift I would have died long before now."  
"If I recall correctly, you did and that was when you had possession of your gift."  
I knew what he said was true, but it stung and I did not want this feeling of emptiness, of not knowing.

"Melusida come, we shall take a walk outside." Boromir said, I almost felt like arguing with him, but he did not let me and instead grabbed my arm and pulled me from the hall.

As soon as we were in the private gardens I wrenched my arm from his grip and began pacing back and forth.  
"You do not understand. None of you understand…"  
"That you wanted part of Sauron's soul within yours?" Boromir asked, he lent against a column.  
"No. I just…" I stopped pacing. Surely he could at least comprehend how hard it was to lose part of your history, but something that meant so much more than history. It was part of my self, my entire being. Not having that gift was indescribable; it was like losing memories from my childhood…or not remembering my name. Boromir walked over to a bench and beckoned me over, I reluctantly sat down next to him and he pulled off his cloak and draped it around my shoulders.  
"I was meant to be so much more. Now I have nothing, I am no different from any other girl in this city and it's stupid…" I felt tears welling up again, "I used to hate my visions, but they were the only thing that ever gave me some form of power and control. I won't be able to keep anyone safe and I will be like everyone else, there is nothing special about me anymore."

We sat silently and it felt good to be away from the bloodshed and the war, here was silence and it was cool and sweet. I suddenly felt very tired; I could have slept for days. I shifted closer to Boromir and put my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes and letting the cold air wash over me. I tried desperately to hear something, to hear if the river would sing, but it was too far away for anything to be heard. Boromir's arm came round my waist, tucking me closer to him and his lips pressed against my forehead.  
"You don't have to have visions to be special, the only important thing is whether you believe you are worthy of your own praise. But if it makes any difference I think you are worthy of mine, probably more so than I give. In my eyes you are just as valid and important as anyone else is, but it is not because you can see things or know magic…"  
"But why?" I asked as he tailed off.  
"You don't need magic for me to respect you. Aragorn does not have magic but I respect him, it is the same with all the Fellowship. Frodo could be seen as the weakest among us, but I know…" his words became stilted and I gently squeezed his hand, "I know he is the strongest. Stronger than me in any case."

I sighed and pulled away from his arms slightly, Boromir frowned and brought me back to his side.  
"What is it? What do you want me to tell you?" he asked.  
I tried to find comfort in his words, I knew they were meant with all kindness. But I still felt a strange want, a need to have something...though I didn't quite know what that was. I pulled away again, "You always speak of respect, it's never anything else."  
Boromir looked momentarily frustrated, then he smiled, shook his head and pulled me into his arms.  
"Just because I never speak of other things, does not mean I feel them. I've always found words to be inadequate in ever describing what I felt."

Despite myself, his little encouraging smile brought one to my lips and he gave a rueful chuckle before lowering his head and kissing my mouth. I was almost startled by how gentle he could be, Boromir never seemed one to hold back; but his hand encircled my face, slowly stroking down my cheek, tenderly mapping out the small crevice around my eye and then brushing down to my lips. A delicious little shiver ran through my body and then he brought my mouth up into a kiss, I instinctively closed my eyes and felt my toes curl underneath my dress. If this was the only moment of bliss I would ever have with him, then I would take it and gladly. His mouth on mine, arms tightly wrapped around me and a warming sensation in my blood.

* * *

A/N: I've been so busy with my other fanfics, I completely forgot about writing this one. Lucky I finished this chapter on time today! But I have genuinely been busy (I got a job! Hussah! And a voluntary position at my local theatre, I am now a ticket tearing pro-master! Next week, teas, coffees and ice creams *dances*).

*Also the passage from the book is written by me, though I tried to imitate a vaguely medieval/Renaissance-style of writing. I couldn't find anything suitable from the real myths, so I had to create it myself. Hence the reason why the sentences are very long and some of the language is a bit archaic.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty One

They found him, though it took a long while and there were so many on the fields. They said that some of the Rohirrim would not even be taken home to be buried, that the families would have to make do with the small stone marks around their necks and visiting the mass grave of Minas Tirith. There was great deal of fuss made about the considered burning of horses, for else the grave would have to be huge, yet those men of Rohan saw such a thing as an insult both to the men who had died and their steads who had borne them into battle. We are so often taught that women are frail and driven by their emotions, while men are resilient and stable. When the messenger told me Hamnet had been found and a guard took me down to the lower levels, I saw men weeping and it struck me as so horrible, for my father never cried, except when my mother died, and my brothers very rarely. Perhaps I am mistaken and men weep as much as women, but they never care for it to be known.

I had been kept far away from the sights and smells of battle, now as the guard carefully led my horse around the piles of stone, broken homes, ruined walls, black smears of ash, filth and blood on the white stone. I kept my eyes askance from it, but could not help looking up at times or jolting when I heard the wails of injured soldiers, the low moaning sound of the wind and the metallic smell of blood filling my noise. I heard others call out for their mothers, not sweethearts or wives, not their Captains or Steward; they were little boys, in pain and frightened. I fixed my eyes on the saddle and tried to keep my tears at bay.

Dòmhnall and Cobryn waited for us in the square, a stretcher beside them covered with a cloak and a body underneath. I did not realise I was weeping until I tried to get down from the horse and I nearly slipped from the stirrup. Dòmhnall put his arm around my shoulder and brought me next to the body. I could not think of it as my brother. Next to the stretcher lay a helmet, a helmet similar to the ones worn by the guards of Minas Tirith and I remembered my brother had served here with Cobryn under Boromir. The smooth steel shone brightly in the sun and the wind rippled through the square.

"He is still recognisable…there is just a leg missing and he's been shot through his side by several arrows." Dòmhnall said, his voice rough. His hand tightened around mine. Cobryn walked round the stretcher with a dark leather pack held in his hand, there was a smear of dark blood and mud at the bottom. He held it out to me.  
"This was his."  
I took it in my hand and then knelt down by Hamnet's covered head and nervously lifted back the cloth. He still wore the dark leather armour of the rangers and the thick grey cloak of our father's. His face was pale, eyes closed. Nothing expressed on his face, but a strange serene look of peace. I wondered if he had seen Her. I did not dare lower the cloth any further, though Cobryn said he had removed the arrows and Dòmhnall had bandaged the bloodied stump.

The guard who came with me knew Cobryn, and the three men alternated between two of them carrying the stretcher up and one of them riding the horse the guard had brought with him. I tried to persuade them to let me help carry the stretcher, but although Cobryn looked as if he would grant me my wish, Dòmhnall flat out refused. He didn't explain why and the expression on his face told me I should not try to argue with him. Dòmhnall was different, perhaps the long journey from Rivendell to Gondor and then the death of our brother had changed him, but I felt he was older. I suppose a bit like Aragorn, who looked younger than his age, but his eyes said otherwise.

Aragorn and Boromir met us on the seventh level when we reached there, he gently clasped my brother's shoulder; Dòmhnall kept his eyes down casted and did not speak a word. I was glad Aragorn was not such a person to see this as rude.  
"He will be honoured." Aragorn said.  
Dòmhnall nodded, but he still did not speak.  
"Thank you." I said, Aragorn turned and smiled sadly at me.  
"We shall take him to the tombs for now, then you may depart him in whatever way you see fit." Boromir said, his hand caressed the small of my back, but he pulled it away when my brother saw where it lay and frowned at Boromir.

"We must put Hamnet in a boat and set fire to it, as we have always done. It is the tradition in our household." Dòmhnall said, taking a swig of ale and looking pointedly at Boromir, "There is the Anduin nearby and all we need is a small boat."  
We were seated at the table, food set out before us, though Dòmhnall was the only one drinking the ale and Gimli the only one eating still. Boromir had placed some bread on his plate, but had not touched it, even though Gimli encouraged him to eat. Boromir looked nervously up at Aragorn; he did not want to get on the wrong side of Dòmhnall again. Gandalf was the one who spoke.  
"I'm afraid that is impossible, Dòmhnall, the river bears no safety to a crowd of mourners. Sauron and his army have no respect for the dead or those mourning them."  
"And the Anduin must be used for soldiers, sailors and messengers." Legolas said.

I waited for Dòmhnall to speak, but his jaw was tightly clenched and his fist tightened on the table. Instead he got up, gave a stiff bow to both Aragorn and Boromir and left the hall. I sighed and clasped my hands together.  
"Your brother finds this hard." Legolas said sympathetically.  
"He never took grief well and I believe he has taken the responsibilities Hamnet had on his own shoulders, Hamnet always took them very seriously." I said.  
"There are others who died today, who cannot be buried in the way their family wishes." Aragorn said, though his tone was one of kindness.  
I tried to stop my lip from trembling and tears filling my eyes again, Boromir's hand surreptitiously took one of my hand's in his.  
"I know that and we are grateful for your kindness and respect towards our brother, but that doesn't make it any better to bear." I said, then I cursed myself as more tears fell for I knew I had not kept my promise, my family had been hurt by death again.

* * *

"Lady Melusida?"  
The night was drawing in and I had been walking to my own chambers, having bid goodnight to everyone gathered and coaxing my brother to his own bed. I knew he had not stopped all day and sleep clouded his features. Now I headed to my own, but a voice called me to stop. I turned and saw Lord Éomer. I gave a curtsey and greeted him.  
"My lord."  
"My apologies for keeping you from your chamber, but I wondered if you could do me a favour?"  
I felt my hackles raise and I was reminded of Lord Denethor's own desires and favours asked of me, though I could sense none of the same malice and perversion in Éomer.  
"It depends on what it would be, sir."  
"My sister, Eowyn, resides in the Houses of Healing; she was injured when she rode into battle and defeated the Witchking."  
"She is a soldier?" I asked in surprise.  
"Yes." Éomer growled.  
I smiled a little, "Though she ought not to be?"  
Éomer gave me a long look and then nodded in ascent, "Yes. Tomorrow the armies of Gondor and Rohan ride to the Gates of Mordor and she will wish to come, though her arm is broken…and Gandalf fears the black breath has hurt her spirit. Could you keep her company? My sister and I have both lost our parents, and now our uncle and cousin…she will want someone who knows what such grief feels like."  
"Yes, I would be glad to do something useful, if Gandalf is right and I serve no purpose anymore."

Éomer smiled gruffly and thanked me, then bid me goodnight and turned to go back to the hall. I was about to return to my own journey when I heard Éomer's footfall stop and he turn to look at me.  
"A person has no use if they believe such a thing to be true, goodnight Lady Melusida."  
"Goodnight, Lord Éomer." I said and continued onward without looking back, but his words felt true.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry for being so late in posting. The biggest book ever published in the UK is taking up a lot of my time, so I've not had much time for writing and my muse is being a bit stubborn with TGotR, everything else I'm writing is fine. Also, I may have slightly underestimated the length of this story, so I think there will be at least two/three more chapters. Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing._


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty Two

A servant took me down a set of stairs leading to the back of the houses of healing, but even as we crossed one of the many courtyards the air felt clearer, the sky a pearly grey shade and I pulled my cloak tighter around me as a chilled wind swept through the courtyard. Accommodation and bedding seemed to have been found for all the soldiers and injured civilians.

She stood at the low stone wall, watching the stream of soldiers and their Captains leave the White City. Banners and flags dotted throughout the mass of silver plated armour and golden chainmail. The green flags of Rohan rippled in the air, making the white horses looked as if they actually moved and galloped along with the soldiers. The pearl white silk of the Minas Tirith flags were mostly at the front, though the other realms of Gondor were spread throughout the march. If I squinted I could see my family's own banner, yet it felt a little ridiculous for we had no men, other than my brother and Cobryn. Boromir insisted we would have one and I wasn't sure if it was from respect towards our brother or just a reminder of why we had originally come to Gondor. It all seemed so futile now.

* * *

"So we may have whatever design we please?" I asked.  
"Yes. Two badges for Cobryn and I and a banner."  
"Your father would like a lion I imagine." Cobryn grinned.  
"I think he would have preferred wolves." Dòmhnall replied.  
"That would look good, a wolf maybe on grey or silver."  
"What about mother?" I said.  
Dòmhnall looked confused, "What about her?"  
"She would want Melusine."  
Cobryn arched his eyebrows and Dòmhnall looked at me disbelievingly.

"What?" I said, irritated by them both.  
"We're not having a fish on a flag, Melusida."  
"Melusine is not a fish." I muttered, "The Dol Amrothians have a boat in the shape of a swan on theirs, that's not exactly fearsome."  
"No, but it's not a half-naked fish-lady on a flag." Cobryn said.  
I turned to my brother, who was avoiding looking at me, "Dòmhnall, she's helped us so much, it would be an insult not to…"  
"She helped us so much by killing our brother?" His eyes darkened once more and the hands by his side clenched into fists, he was almost shaking.  
"Gandalf told us why that happened and I know Hamnet would have lain down his life for this city and for us."

I was glad to see Cobryn nodding and agreeing with me, "He was an honourable man, there's no denying that. But Melusida should your house have an image of a half-naked lady do you think anyone will take your house seriously?"  
I glared at them both, "Fine, dress her if you have to. But I know both mother and father would have wanted to see her on our flag."  
"Father's original banner was that of a boar." Dòmhnall said.  
"And people will still remember what our father did, it would be better to have a new start rather than remember the old and we should respect our mother too. Mother's banner was of the Lady of the Lake, but she only had one tail; on ours we shall have two to signify our journey, the past and the future, as has been the claim of our house."  
"Why does this matter to you so much?" Dòmhnall shouted.  
"Because it's my house too."  
My brother harrumphed, "Not for long."  
"What? Are you planning to kill me off or something?"  
"Don't be ridiculous, but if Boromir has any dignity within him, he'll marry you, rather than take you like some–"  
"Who exactly has been saying Boromir will marry me?" I glared at Dòmhnall.  
"Me. And don't try to deny it, sister. I've seen the way he looks at you."  
"You haven't seen anything."  
"I am sure that is the case, but seeing as you're about to join another family who have their own banner, I doubt you'll need your own."

I marched out of the room then, slamming the door behind me, only to hear Dòmhnall wrenching the door open.  
"Melusida, come back here–"  
I whirled around, but remained in the corridor, "I wish you would just forgive him or at least try to be nice."  
"How can I be 'nice' when he put you through those tortures and sent me no word that you were alive?"  
"Because if you and I were in that situation we would not know how to deal with it either and you know full well it was impossible to send a messenger to Rohan."  
"Have you forgiven him?"  
"No, not entirely and he understands that. But at least I don't put the sole blame on him." I resumed walking down the corridor, my skin prickling from irritation and my head aching from shouting at my brother.  
"Where are you going?"  
"For a walk?"  
"Where?"  
"I don't have to tell you everything about what I do, where I go and _who_ I see."

* * *

There was a quiet knock at my door and I irritably put down my knitting, I wasn't exactly sure what I was knitting, it was just a patched more useful than lady-like sewing and I had no desire to sit with the ladies of Gondor; not that there were many of them within the city anymore, most had fled with their younger siblings to their homes or further north. I recognised the knock, it belonged to both of my brothers when they came to apologies to me.  
"Come in." I said and Dòmhnall came in, looking very bashful and ashamed of himself. I couldn't hide my smile. "You look like a puppy that someone's kicked."  
"And you look like a someone who's kicked a puppy." he grinned at me, then sat beside my chair.  
"Very witty." I muttered, trying to concentrate on my needles.

"Sorry sister."  
I gently ruffled his hair, "I understand why you're upset, I understand why we're both upset. But we need to unite with our friends, even if you are angry with them and rightly so."  
"But you are not angry?"  
"I was, more disappointed now."  
"Do you love Boromir?"  
I was strangely surprised by the question, "I…I don't know. It's hard to say what I feel for him, I know I am so content with him; I know he would never willingly hurt me. But everything is too dark and confusing now to be sure."  
Dòmhnall gave a deep sigh, "But could you love him in a time of peace?"  
I thought about the way Boromir looked at me, that great peace and contentment spreading over his face, the lines of the past disappearing, his eyes gazing intently at me and I felt that warm, shiver of sweetest desire spreading through my body.  
"I think so. I pray every day to Melusine that you all will come back safely and Aragorn will claim his throne. But the world is so dark now; I cannot give much favour to hope."

I continued with my knitting, the soft clink of knitting needles, Dòmhnall's steady breathing and the fire crackling in the grate the only noises. I wondered if Dòmhnall had fallen asleep, but as I looked down he stirred and brought over a leather pack left by the door, opening it he took out three books I recognised belonging to my mother, my dagger, the sword Lord Elrond had given me, my mirror – again wrapped in soft, dark velvet – and my reading cards. I went straight over to my cards, longingly picking them up in my hands, feeling that same low hum and warm energy passing through my limbs, right into my blood.

"I figured it was a good time to give these back to you." Dòmhnall said, "I don't want us to part in hate."  
I hugged him there and then, "You will come back."  
He chuckled, "Is this Melusine talking?"  
I smiled, "No, it's me. I demand you to come back, we shall honour our brother's memory and claim our land back."  
"And marry and have lots of wailing babies?"  
I laughed, "At least a hundred each."  
Dòmhnall laughed freely then, the smile on his face melting away years of hard won battles and grief.

"The Ailin family will know no bounds." he said.  
"The Ailins?"  
"Aye, a new title for us. For new times, I hope."  
"It is Elfish."  
He chuckled, "Very good, little sister. I'm glad some of the lessons with Lord Elrond paid off."  
"The family of the Lake."  
He also pulled out a long leather parcel from the pack and carefully undid the strings on the bed, beneath the leather lay a green-blue coloured flag and when Dòmhnall unfolded it the image of a woman with two tails and long flowing hair was seen. In one hand she bore a sword and in the other a mirror. When a small breeze from the open window caught the light material it rippled, like water.  
"I hope that is a fitting apology for my earlier behaviour."  
I seized Dòmhnall in a tight hug, "More than fitting. Thank you, Dòmhnall."

"Will you read your cards?" he asks.  
I sigh, "They will not work, you know what Gandalf said."  
"Gandalf does not know everything."  
"He knows quite a lot of things though." I say.  
"Aye, but not everything. Please, for me, sister."  
"Very well." I smile, picking up my cards and shuffling them, till I can feel a spark running through my fingers and into the card beneath. I place it face down on the bed, then another and a third. I reveal the first card. _Temperance_, the elven woman pouring from one vessel into another, a stream of water flowing between the two cups and a river by her feet.

"The purging of Death is over, leaving strength, renewing and rebuilding. The importance of moderation and balance, the coming together of differing ideas or beings."  
Dòmhnall flips over the next card, _The Tower, _crashing forks of lightening and fire crushing the stone, fracturing the strong foundations.  
"The world is changing and we must all change with it, the old ideas must go for newer, more stable ones. To refuse such a change will mean your life and world will come crashing down around you and you will be thrown from the battlements."  
I turn over the third, _The Wheel of Fortune_. I gaze down on it again, does it mean my fates will change and for good or bad? Or does it reflect the circle, the journey is complete?  
"What does it mean?" Dòmhnall asks.  
"Neither good or bad can be told, just that our fortunes will change and Fate will always decide over men's lives and journeys."

Domhnall nods and then kisses my forehead in parting.  
"Thank you sister, pray to Melusine for me."  
And I feel a strange shiver run down my spine as I remember my father once said the exact same words before I last saw him.

* * *

_A/N: You wait for one tiny bit of inspiration to turn up and suddenly a bus-load-full does! I was really struggling with this chapter and then suddenly my brain was like 'Oh oh oh, Hannah, I know! I know!' This was going to be one chapter, but it's much too long, so I'm cutting it into two and she'll meet Eowyn in the next chapter. Are they going to get along? Who can say? ;)_

Also for anyone paying attention, I did a little tribute to GoT (which I've only just started watching! I know, my friend Elspeth is continuously telling me I'm an idiot for not watching it until now and I am addicted!) and The White Queen (which I think I've mentioned before, that the TWQ is what this story is based on). So brownie points for the people who can spot where I've done that :D Thanks so much for reading and reviewing Xxx


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter Thirty Three

She turned when she heard me approaching and I gave a low curtsey, cautiously glancing up to see her cold grey eyes upon me, the cool wind lifting her golden hair. Her posture and steel eyes did not welcome pity.  
"My lady, I am the Lady Melusida of Ailin. I hope I can serve you well."  
She gave no response, and instead turned back to watch the troops growing smaller into the distance. But I was not perturbed and came to her side, praying for Dòmhnall, Cobryn, Aragorn and his fellows, but it seemed my heart lingered on Boromir and I prayed he would return to me. I could scarcely believe this Lady of ice and snow had enough fire within her to seek glory and fame on the battlefield, but I could wait, I could wait all day for her to talk.

"I want to go with them." she said, her voice sharp, no wavering or simpering fool within it.  
"Your arm is injured."  
"I want to go with them."  
"No captain would have an injured soldier amongst his troops. It is dangerous both to the soldier and to his fellows."  
I saw her glance at me, eyes slightly narrowed, her mouth a thin line.  
"They have told me you are the one who died and was reborn."  
"A cheerful way of being introduced, they have told me you defeated the Witchking in defence of your uncle." I said.  
Her eyes turned back to the dust cloud and the last remaining soldiers.

"Your brother told me to–" I began.  
"I know what my brother will have said, he'll have ordered you to spy on me, to ensure I don't saddle my horse and–"  
"You can't saddle your horse with only one arm, equally when riding on horseback it is best to carry a shield on one arm and wield the sword in the other and the movement of the horse would likewise hurt your arm."  
"You would not say all of this were I not a woman–"  
"I would say all this no matter what your gender. If my brother insisted on fighting were he injured I would knock him out with the hilt of his own sword."  
She scowls furiously at me and resumes her guard-like position next to the wall, fierce eyes scouring the land as though she can smite her enemies with her own eyes.  
"I am sorry for the loss of your uncle and cousin." I say gently, hoping my outburst did not offend her, but I am weary with treading lightly around people and avoiding their feet. And she clearly cannot ride out; if she were a man I would treat her just the same.

"What do you know of it?" she hisses.  
I hide my surprise and my own pain, "Many have been lost in this last battle, my lady. Including my older brother. My father died defending our home before then and I lost my mother too when I was young."  
A small flush of embarrassment comes to her cheeks and she gives me a quick glance, then looks outward once more.  
"Shall we walk, my lady?" I ask. She nods reluctantly and follows me down the path of the garden. The sharp wind has died a little and though it is somewhat cold, the air is not as biting or chilled as it is in winter. Ahead of us an apple tree has unfurled one or two sprigs of pale blossom, though the banks of earth are still dull and empty of any flowers. Only hardy herbs, like rosemary and sage give the air a pleasant scent. There is an empty stone bench and I glance first at the bench then at Eowyn, I want to tell her if she feels weary she can tell me and we will sit, but I am a little wary of her taking offence. We have not spoken since leaving the wall, but she now turns to look at me.

"You are sister to Dòmhnall?" she says and I nod, "He is a good man, he served Rohan well. As did your older brother, Hamnet…" her voice tails off and I wonder if the small tone of longing betrays her feelings.  
"Our father taught us the importance of duty…though he was less obedient of that lesson." I said.  
"Yes, Hamnet told me of your father. He was part of our history my brother and I were taught."  
I suddenly found a wave of giggles rush over me, I don't know why, but the idea of my father's name in history books seemed ridiculous. This was my father, not Elros the first King of Númenor or Lúthien, but then I had always taken more heed to my mother's stories, than those of warriors and kings taught by Elrond.

Eowyn frowned at me.  
"Forgive me," I said, "I did not mean to offend you, it just seems strange the idea of my father being taught in history. I seem to be the only one who knows very little of his past and to me he was an ordinary man."  
"You did not offend me; I just wondered why you laughed. His is only a small history, but he came to my uncle in hope Rohan would rise up against Gondor. And although there was some tension between our lands, it would have been a foolhardy thing to try."  
"Your uncle was born to a woman of Gondor too." I said.  
The smallest hint of a smile came to Eowyn's lips, "Yes, she would have been set against such an idea from the beginning." She suddenly gave a long sigh and the frown resumed its place, "My Uncle liked both your brothers."  
"I'm afraid Dòmhnall and I have had little time to speak of their past journey, but I know he respects your brother a good deal."  
"Dòmhnall often talked of you to me, he believed we would have liked one another."  
"Perhaps we can." I grinned and another small smile flashed momentarily across her lips, before it was hidden again by her serious expression and the intent purposeful tread of her foot.

"Lady Eowyn, Lady Melusida."  
We both turned to see Faramir marching swiftly towards us, several books held under his arm and a smile for us both. But as I dropped into a curtsey, I noticed how his eyes skimmed past me to look upon Eowyn, and although her face retained its seriousness, her eyes softened a little and some heat came to her cheeks.  
"Good day, Lord Faramir." I said, when he merely beamed at Eowyn.  
"Good day, Lady Melusida, Lady Eowyn. I hear, Melusida, Boromir has granted you back your titles and you have a new banner." I nodded, "Well it is what little we can do to repay your help."  
"I know my brothers would not request such prizes, they are men of honour."  
"As no one will doubt. But you helped too."  
I shrugged, "A little, I was more of a hindrance than anything else."  
"You were valued here, as was Eowyn." He turned back to her and brought out the books, "As promised, the books."  
"Thank you." Eowyn said. I think even Faramir was surprised at the gentleness in her tone. "Would you like to accompany us, Lord Faramir?"  
"I would be honoured to spend time with such honourable ladies."

He gave a short bow and then joined Eowyn by her side, with me dogging their footsteps, but as they continued talking and I lingered further and further back I realised why Éomer had asked me to spend time in his sister's company. I was a chaperone. For the first time in a long while I smiled foolishly at the idea of a brother's worry and a sweet flirtation. In this time of darkness it did not seem foolhardy or pointless, I admired them, that they could find some hope in this storm.


End file.
